


How Truth Unfolds

by ThyDeviousViolet



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Character Analysis, F/M, Falling In Love, Happy Ending, Realistic, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-16 18:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 29,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4635270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThyDeviousViolet/pseuds/ThyDeviousViolet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The unspoken affection between Mulder and Scully was what made the magic. Here's how it may have played out when it became obvious. This is the "I love you" story. To stay true to the show, may not be as sappy as it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As noted before, I am basically flooding this site with all of my fiction history from FanFic.  
> This particular one, however, has a special place in my heart. It was the first story I had that involved some creativity, and was my most popular one for a long time. 
> 
> Luckily, I will update it this time around to fix the unacceptable spelling and grammatical errors that were in the original version. Of course, me editing all of this late at night means I am sure to miss some, but, it's much better than it was before (I would hate to promise perfection when it's human).
> 
> So, if you have already read this story once, feel free to ignore it!

I sat on a rigid park bench, eating the salad in my lap. Earlier, I had ran out of the office as fast as my legs would carry me. The day was too beautiful to eat lunch inside as I normally would, and I was thankful I still had 20 minutes before I had to rush back.

Thank _God_ it was Friday.

A warm breeze rippled through my hair, swaying the trees beyond me. The smell of summer was prominent in a bold and comforting manner. Grass beneath my shoes, sun glowing above me...

Despite all of this, I did not take notice.

I was searching the park for something I was not sure of at the moment.

Perhaps it was the abundant amount of couples walking arm in arm, displaying their happiness with the world in which they no longer feared. That hurt, in an odd way...I never saw myself as the type of woman to crave the attention of a male. Rather, I only wished to share my life with someone.

Or maybe it was the fact that there were children, running in the fields, and playing on the swing-set. Their parents watched in awe.

How wonderful would that be? To create life, and to build it up from nothing. This was something I could no longer do.

Loneliness bared down on me. I simply was not sure _why_...

It could be that I had no longer attempted to enter the dating world. The complications that could arise from that are far more than the benefits that may come. It was not something that could be enjoyable for me, anymore, especially at my age.

But, perhaps the real reason was hovering over my head, because I knew what I wanted.

I knew what I _needed_.

And he was something that was far out of my reach.

When I think of all the years Mulder and I have spent together, I see two people who have made a life. A life dedicated to everything other than ourselves. Where could we have changed things? It was too late to pursue a romantic relationship now. There would be far too much to sacrifice, and I gave up hope years ago. The longer we worked together, the more professional we had to become.

Professionalism was not something I intended to shake.

Yet, even I know that is a front created in my mind in order to control my real emotions. I suppose what bothers me more than anything, is Mulder's complete dedication for everything he does. The willingness he has to ignore all odds and to pursue what he wants despite what is right and what the world thinks of him has always baffled me, in both the positive and negative connotations of that word.

If I was what he wanted, he would have had me long ago. Therefore, I cannot act on it.

His flirty nature was not something I overlooked from day one. There were times when he would invade my personal space: place his palm on my back, hold my hand, kiss me gently, even... I try not to dwell on these moments, and try to ignore them when he makes moves toward me. I flash my look of disapproval, and he always ceases his action.

But, sometimes... I think harder. There are moments where we look at each other, and we _know_. The moments of silence shared when we read each others faces...

We know what we have.

Love is obvious between us. But, it isn't enough, and we know this as well.

* * *

I looked down at my watch, to my dismay, and began the walk back to the source of my issue and confusion. There were times when I wondered if this was right (becoming an FBI agent and all). Medicine had been my passion at one point, and that was something honorable. It was something to be proud of when you discussed it with others, and it said more about me personally than my current profession.

Now, the only passion I had for this profession was the man who worked me restless even when we weren't on the job. But the X-Files are _his_ passion. I try very hard to understand that. He deserves something pleasurable in his life, even if it does come from bleakness.

I suppose my loyalty stems from the fact that, in my mind, if I help him pursue the unknown, one day he may find what it is that he's looking for. One day, he could look up at me, peaceful for the first time in his life, and decide to rest.

To settle down...

That was what normal people did at our ages. They got married, they had children, and they became aware that a family was what life should have been about the whole time. It just took maturity to realize that. For a moment, I wondered if Mulder had even considered having a steady girlfriend. My God, some high-schoolers could even handle that. Where the hell was Mulder at in his life?

Then, I shuddered at myself. I had none of these things, either.

It's a sad moment when you accidentally spot the flaws in your own pathetic, mess of a life.

I stopped at the door of our office and waited, and I tried to change my expression.

To live a lie as I always do.

I'm vaguely sure it looked like a painful smile, but Mulder wouldn't notice. He was sure to be concentrating on paperwork.

When I finally opened the door, he was gazing at me before I had even come all the way through the opening.

"Hey, Scully," he cooed, glossy eyed and a smile painted on his entire face. There was never a man so dreamy, so... idealistic, even, against the negativity of the world. Even my staunch air of detachment and sarcasm was no match for him, as I had learned all those years ago.  

Soon, I noticed the paperwork was in his lap, without having been opened in my absence. I wondered what he had been doing this whole time...

"Mulder," I nodded to greet him. I felt his eyes follow me across the room, and I looked over again to realize that he had never even touched his lunch.

In fact, he was just now in the process of opening the burrito that he had bought at the same time that _I_ had purchased my salad. Had he really wasted a whole 30 minutes doing absolutely nothing?

As this unusual and rather lazy behavior was in fact typical Mulder behavior, I decided not to go any deeper, and just fix the problem myself, as usual.

I walked back to the desk and stared at the paper in his lap. He looked up at me slowly and in mock surprise, before he thrusted his hips up and moved them from side to side.

"Are you in _need_ of something?" he winked. I raised an eyebrow.

"The paperwork, Mulder. That you were so kind as to get a head start on," I said with as much sarcasm as I could produce. He smiled at me. "Cmon, hand them over."

"Oh, is that all you wanted? Here I was getting excited," he said dully. I tried to suppress a chuckle, which I know he saw, because he looked up for approval and his eyes lit up, before he handed the papers to me.

"So, you're not even going to question what I was doing for the time that you were gone? And, speaking of that Scully, I was a _little_ offended that I had not received an invite to eat lunch with you," he said.

"...Did you want to come? I wasn't aware you enjoyed being outside," I deadpanned, brow furrowed.

The man loved the office. It was tight, cramped, offered privacy, and no sunlight whatsoever. His apartment was the same way. As far as I was concerned, Mulder was a hermit.

"Well, yeah, I mean... eating without you is a little weird," he said, eyes toward his palms, and lips pursed.

"Eating without me is a little _weird_?" I asked.

"...Yeah. You know. I, uh, I guess I'm used to your company," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"So, not doing the paperwork was your form of retaliation?" I asked. Really, I tried my best not to convey my feeling of adoration. As always, I got the impression that he liked our moments together in this hellhole. It was an odd form of flattery.

"Yes," he said, like a child who was having a tantrum. He took an bite of his burrito, and it was running down the side of his face. When I thought of telling him, however, I also thought of the paperwork I would have to do on my own, and realized that leaving him messy was my punishment for him.

* * *

I did not respond to him after that. We sat together for about 2 hours, while I worked on the paperwork, and Mulder rearranged the files next to his desk. In fact, he was probably just trying to make himself look like he was busy.

Finally I got up, to stretch, and he looked up at me.

"So... what are you doing over there, anyway?" I asked. He smiled and stretched back in his chair, hands folded behind his head.

"There was an old file I was looking for. An occurrence, and possibly the only one in U.S. History, that was a catalyst where the government nearly made a public announcement about the existence of extraterrestrials," he said in his best know-it-all voice.

I rolled my eyes. For a while there, we had drifted from conspiracy. Now, out of sheer boredom he was trying to dip ourselves back in again.

"Continue," I demanded, and he gleamed. It was hard taking him serious on a day to day basis, but now especially with the food still on his face.

"In 1968, over the skies of Las Vegas, a UFO made it's way from the cover of the clouds, crashed near the mountains, and was visible to everyone. News rooms were flooded. People were stunned, but they were too scared to make there way over to it. Finally a group gathered up enough courage to march over and see what it contained, but the government was already on it. The people were killed, there's no record of them at all, and all that remained was the crash site. It was cleaned up and stored away somewhere, thought we've only a guess. The only evidence that remains is the impact it made on the mountainside..." he explained.

"So, why have I never heard of this before? If it were so popular it would be... embedded into pop culture, people would stake out just to get a glimpse of what went on out there, if that's what really occurred," I countered.

"That's my point. How could something so popular in the past be unheard of in the present future?" he pressed, very intense, with a small, devious smile on his lips. After all these years, I knew that when we had these discussions every week, his favorite part was where he tried to ignore my logic with some sort of wild accusation.

"Where are you going with this?" I led in, not sure why I continued to play this game with him all the time.

"Mind control. What if they completely erased the memory of everyone involved? A mass forgetting." he said, eyes wide, but I simply stared back, unmoved.

"Mulder, even if that were possible, how would the minds of hundreds, or even more, of people be eradicated. That was 30 years ago. If we don't have the technology to do that now, there's no way it would have been possible then," I explained, but I knew it was futile.

The way his eyes were narrowed, I knew he was already decided, and I sighed. In response, he smiled gently.

"What I'm really getting at is that there's a rogue army general who claims he was present during it all. I was curious if we could get a hold of him."

"How would that be possible?"

I hated to know that no matter how much I fought him on it, we were still going to do things his way. There was something in Mulder that exuded power, and though it was an immediate turn on, it also angered me beyond belief. However, anger meant passion, and perhaps that was why I never felt that I had a chance to resist him. Very rarely did I find the kind of person, especially a man, to challenge me on a daily basis.

"You and I have connections...The Gunmen!" he exclaimed. I stared at him, and he raised his eyebrows and smiled more widely. 

"Mulder, it's the weekend..." I whined. His expression faded, and he looked off in the distance for a while.

"What if we just go see them once? Tonight, to see if we can get some information. We could pursue this on Monday, and have the whole weekend to relax," he promised dearly.

My heart lurched at the 'have the whole weekend to relax'. It was also the only statement that had not included the term 'we'. But, I was happy that he had taken my feelings into consideration. Headstrong as he was, he did have remarkable qualities that made up for it. I smiled weakly, worried that for a moment I may have been selfish.

"Thank you," I said, and he grinned.

Before I knew it, we had grabbed our bags, ready to lockup the office. He opened the door for me, and I walked out, with him behind me.

"Alright! I'll pick you up tonight. 7ish," he declared. The formality and the giddy way in which he said it, made me think that he had confused work with personal interests, but, as always, I let it slide.

We too a step inside the elevator, and on the next floor, another agent who entered was glaring at Mulder. I hoped she had not sensed his friendless and lack of formality in regard to his physical stance next to me in the elevator.

We already had enough suspicion here about our partnership.

Then, however, I noticed that she was looking at the dribble on his mouth. My face went red. Mulder was looking at her, somewhat agitated, and most assuredly confused. He frowned, and glanced at me as if to say, "What's her problem?". She got off in a hurry.

"What the hell was that?" he asked. I laughed and moved closer to grab his face gently.

His eyes got wide, breathing heavy. He leaned in ever so slightly. Did he think I was going to...?

I wiped the corner of his mouth with my finger, and he pulled back in confusion, realizing his mistake, before he glared at his shoes.

"What would you do without me?" I said, smirk on my face. I was not sure if his embarrassment came from what was on the corner of his mouth or from what latent desire was in his heart.

But, I couldn't help but notice, most assuredly, how eager he was to lean in.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be some talk of Daniel Waterston here, so if you haven't seen "all things" there could be spoilers. Worth mention!
> 
> A/N: If you're a creepy obsessed fan like me, you'll know that Gillian Anderson has stated that the relationship between her and Dr. Waterston was not a full fledged affair, and that Scully left him because she feared it would become that very soon. But, considering that major plot point was left out of the episode, and that we were left to assume whatever it is we wanted to...I'm going to pretend they did have a relationship. Or better put, a real affair.

* * *

 

I fiddled with my keys at the door of my apartment. Here I was, alone as always. Or, I should say, for the time being. Mulder would be here at 7:00, although I could not help but wonder how early he would arrive. It's not like he was busy either.

The key finally went in, and I quickly opened then shut the door behind me. I was not sure how excited I was to help pursue an "army rogue" as Mulder had called him.

How would our case report read? My major benefit to Mulder was to make the X-Files seem logical and believable. A story from an ex-army general would be filled with negative psychological factors. And did Mulder forget we _worked_ for the government? They would not be interested in the point of view from someone who went against them and their policies. This would not end well.

Then again, when did the X-Files ever end up on a positive note? We were the laughing stock of our peers.

It was debatable on who I felt worse for: Mulder, because it was the work he truly loved, or me, who was assigned to aid him. I had no regrets in the slightest. My time spent with him was worth it. But, from the perspective of the others, I had to guess that they thought to themselves,"Poor Dana Scully. Fox Mulder drug her life down the crazy tubes just like did with his own."

Maybe _I_ was just as crazy for loving him. Who knows? But it's not like I could do anything about it. A part of me felt content in our close relationship, for the most part. I was not unhappy where we were with each other.

I could most definitely be _happier_ , though.

When I consider my last romantic partner, in comparison to the present one (if I could be so bold as to suggest Mulder in that way), who was the only one I would want to spend my future with, I see similar aspects.

Daniel was a strong man. He was an intellectual. That was something I found attractive first and foremost. He had a caring nature about him, but he always held control over me as if he knew what was best for me. It was like he thought only he had the solution to any issues of mine that would arise. I did not bicker with him as I do now with Mulder. I suppose Daniel's controlling ways made me into the independent woman that I am today. He did not, however, expect me to abide by what he said. I would never want to paint the picture that he was a masochistic pig. His domination was only to better me as a person. That was his main goal, and it's a trait I've yet to find in Mulder.

But, then again, Daniel was older than me by some years. I suppose his maturity set the bar. That his intentions to better me were so that I could live my life easier than he did at my age. But, if I never made my own mistakes, there would never be any way for me to grow as an individual. By wanting to make my decisions and fight my battles for me, he could have taken my identity away. Or, the state it was in then.

Considering the subject matter, it's worth mention that I _did_ know our intimacy was wrong. There is no way to deny that. But it was hot, intense, and passionate. And, of course, there was love. If I had not loved him, there was no way I would have risked so much. It doesn't make it right in hindsight, and I know that more now than I did then, but it was true. He was the first person I burned for... I would shudder at a mere touch. The sexual encounters we had in his office...God...are all things that run through my mind every once in a while.

To dwell on the issue would be ridiculous. It was my choice to leave him, and I have no regrets for that. But, there are certain occasions where, when I find myself thinking of him, I have to ponder how different my professional life would have been. Daniel was a factor in my decision to leave the medical field. To think "What if...?" is not a way to live, but if I did not stop to think of it once in a while, I would surely go insane.

And that's when Mulder enters the equation, although we could easily say he has one all his own. He and I have a different relationship obviously, and the main one is because he is an entirely different person.

But then again, so am I. The wishful young lady that loved a married man was not the same woman who met Mulder at the FBI. Some may call it pessimistic, but I call it having a grip on reality.

Mulder is a strong man as well. But, in a much different sense of the word. He's strong in his quiet disposition. Of course, he had his over-confident moments, that I assumed he played for either humor or to impress someone, but his true nature is humble.

As I said before, he and I bicker. There is a part of Mulder that respects and values my opinion in the highest form. It took me a few years to realize that, and once I did, I knew I was in deep. He would never try to control me, though he did stretch his power from time to time, but he always returned back to his original position. He and I were equals.

When I think it through more thoroughly, I see the biggest similarity between them both.

They were both far out of my reach.

Easily tamed, perhaps, but both forbidden.

My time spent with Daniel may be the biggest reason I refuse to pursue a relationship with Mulder. I had done wrong once, but to do it again would be ignorance on my part. It was against protocol for two agents to be together. I played that phrase over and over while we sat in that cramped office, or when we spent nights together in hotel rooms that adjoined, and hell, even the car rides.

But, there is so much less standing between Mulder and I than there was with Daniel. I know that he and I love each other wholly. He is...simply right for me. The term "soul mate" is ridiculously cheesy and stale, but if I were one to believe in that sort of thing, well, it's Mulder.

For most women, coming to that understanding is a relief. For me, it's a burden.

The reason I play things with such ferocity to remain by the book and straight-edge, is that in all honesty it's the only way I feel that I can be normal. It gives me a sense of control.

So, as I waited for Mulder, after having thoughts as I just did, I sighed out loud in my solitude. And he would never know.

I cringed when I thought of working at a time like this. I wanted to relax, not play cat and mouse with The Gunmen over how to get in touch with this "rogue". But, at least Mulder would be happy.

I heard a knock on my door. When I got up and looked through the hole, there he was, in the same outfit as he wore to work, only the jacket was left off the suit and his tie was nonexistent.

He grinned at me, and I suppressed a laugh while I opened the door.

"Scully!" He said, like a child.

"Who else were you expecting?" I said, with a roll of my eyes as I locked the door behind me. That _was_ a legitimate question.

But, he was happy with my presence. That fact alone never ceased to amaze me.


	3. Chapter 3

I glanced at Mulder as we walked up, preparing to knock on their door. He tried to suppress a grin on his face, while I held my own bleak expression.

The Gunmen were not often accustomed to visitors.

These men were the closest Mulder had to male friends. In fact, they hold 3 spaces of the 4 human beings that he allows himself to be in personal company with at any given time. I had to remind myself that they were always of incredible help when we needed them.

But, from their outward appearances, it was hard to take them seriously. Well, maybe I shouldn't be as harsh to Byers. Then again, his suits and professional demeanor made him the odd one out in the group. Perhaps he was the real joke?

But I must admit, my heart held a special place for Frohike. Despite the annoying and unnecessary passes he consistently made to me, I found him to be the most compassionate. He was the only one to arrive at my door when we suspected Mulder dead in the desert fire so long ago. He was slightly drunk, but it was touching, nevertheless. If I was allowed to play favorites, it may just be him.

And, well, Langley had the best taste in music. I need not say more.

"You ready?" Mulder asked, now allowing himself to grin fully. I blinked slowly to express my agreement to the statement. He had just raised his hand to complete the motion of a full knock, when we were greeted by 3 faces.

"Welcome to the humble abode," Frohike said in dry manner, and initiated the others to speak as well.

"You guys are here a little later than we planned...have a little _fun_ on the way?" Langley winked in suggestion, and was soon jabbed in the gut by Frohike, whose permanent frown was intensified at the lame attempt of humor.

Yes, he was now definitely my favorite.

Mulder's eyes widened and he looked at me from the corner of his eye.

"Hey!" Byers threw in. Did he ever speak first...?

They welcomed us in.

I could not help but gather my surroundings every time we came here. It was quite drab. Technology was spread from every wall, not much light existed, and the smell of old pizza hung in the air. I could feel Mulder's eyes on me as The Gunman took their places to give us a presentation of some sort.

I glanced up at him next to me, but to my surprise, he smiled, very soft and apologetic. I smiled weakly back in confusion, as I searched his face for an answer to his expression before he looked away. Then, he gave me a loving nudge.

I then understood that it was code for an apology, for having dragged us out here. Typical Mulder, to apologize after delivering me somewhere less than desirable on a Friday night.

As much as I was against this, his emotion made up for it. And, of course, his presence in general. _And_ I suppose it did not take much persuading on his part...

It never did anymore.

I could not decide whether I was whipped, in the way that men always complain, or if I was a sucker for his antics.

Then, I realized that I was neither. Actually, I was the worst kind: a whipped sucker.

I stared off for a while after that.

Mulder and The Gunmen had fun like adolescents in the background, overjoyed at the company of one another. Mulder eventually began his introduction on the professional aspect of our visit. When I came back to reality in complete lucidness, they were discussing the "rogue" we would be dealing with.

"Teddy Grossman. He's a hell of a guy to access, lemme tell you. Took us a while to track him down, even longer to make contact. We told him the nature of your investigation," said Frohike.

"What was his response?" Mulder asked, brow furrowed and somewhat hunched over.

"Yeah. That's the thing..." Frohike responded. He was cut off soon.

"You see, Mr. Grossman is incredibly difficult to converse with-"

"A real asshole," Langley clarified. Mulder and I both nodded in understanding, before Byers continued.

"He's angry for some reason, at the whole world and possibly everyone in it. We've considered suggesting another option to do this..."

"To do _what_?" Mulder asked.

"To get the information you need," said Byers. Mulder and I stared at them, in the midst of confusion.

"There's a catch to get what it is you desire...and we highly doubt that you'll be up for it," Byers continued, and had addressed me alone at the end of his statement.

I was wide eyed.

"Where are you going with this?" I asked.

"Grossman wants a date with ya," said Langley. I was taken aback, before I heard Mulder snicker in contempt.

"How is he even aware of my existence?" I questioned. Frohike spoke up.

"He demanded information on both of you. Pictures, biographies... we even sent video."

I froze there. They were capable of these things against our knowledge... 

"He was charmed by a certain fiery haired goddess," he added, and smiled for the first time all night. I was prepared to decline.

This "Teddy Grossman" held himself in high esteem for no justified reason.

"Tell him no," Mulder said bitterly, raising his voice. I looked at him, completely baffled.

"...Excuse me?" I asked.

"I _said_ tell him no. You don't want to go on a date with a total prick like this, Scully. And to be honest, I don't want you in the same room with him. We're not doing it," he said, and it was final in his voice.

His statement was true. I had just moments ago felt the same way.

Yet, I felt anger rise from within me, like a slap in my face.

I did not understand what it was. I quickly resented the comparing I had done of Daniel and Mulder just a few hours prior. He had made a liar of me. To assert his dominance not only before I had given my answer, but in front of others, was something I had not expected.

Soon, I began to think with emotion instead of logic. That's when I knew it would become dangerous.

I mean, why was it so _shocking_ that I could go on a _date_?

"I want to do it!" The words came from my mouth before I had thought them over.

"Scully, we're not doing it. You don't have to be a hero, the case isn't that important anyway," he replied with a shrug.

I had thought that from the moment he told me about this case. There were moments when he only listened to his own ideas, with my opinions respected, but never the "go to" choice.

"We're not doing it? No, Mulder, I think we are. _You_ drug me out here tonight, and don't overestimate your authority. We're _doing_ _it_ ," I said with a glare at him.

He quickly fell from his high horse. I felt no pity, which scared me. He continued to look at me, wide eyed, lips poked out. The resemblance he had to a dog at this moment was uncanny. There was tension violently hanging in the air.

I turned to Byers.

"Can you set it up?" I questioned. He nodded, and soon Frohike's pout was worse than Mulder's.

I did not speak for the rest of the night. I listened to Mulder's incessant banter on non-important topics, and the eagerness of The Gunmen, in their effort to forget the incident.

'We'll be getting in touch with you soon," Byers reminded me on our way out.

I knew I would regret this, in regard to the impending date.

It's odd how in the middle of an outburst you begin to disagree with the opponent simply because you need to make a valid point, that is much more personal than the situation you're addressing.

However, the anger towards Mulder was real. I would not shun genuine emotion.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

I could feel his cautious gaze on my back as we walked to the car.

I pulled on the passenger seat handle impatiently, to no avail. He unlocked the doors quickly at my action.Soon, I got in, and from the privacy of the dark car, looked up to read his expression.

He was still outside, obviously in no hurry to enter. The distress on his face was complicated for me to assess. I was not sure if it was from embarrassment on the outburst or from shame of his own behavior. Then, I noticed he took a deep breath, before he dipped into the vehicle.

We sat in silence.

I tried to think of the real reason I snapped.

I was almost positive I had hit it on the head back there, with The Gunmen. It was his _eagerness_ to overpower me. There was a significant difference in being listened to, and being heard...

The moments of tension that we shared over the years were the times when I had the biggest regrets on becoming an agent. My heart softened at that thought...

No, I would never regret _him_. But, was it so selfish of me to want what I had dreamed for as my future? Mulder was getting what _he_ wanted. The X-Files were the only joy in his life.

What about my hopes and aspirations? They seemed to have vanished long ago.

I quickly shook that thought. I knew that Mulder was at times aware of my unhappiness as well. Truth be told, I did not want him to feel responsible. These were choices that I had made. If I came to regret them in the present, as I sometimes did, then it is _my_ problem. After all, I was an adult.

So, why did I snap like an adolescent back there?

I was still angry at Mulder, and would discuss this at some point with him, but when I processed everything in my head, I stumbled upon something else.

The internal conflict raging within me had exploded and shown itself to the world. My disappointment with myself was simply too much to handle.

As long as I kept busy with paperwork or investigation, I find it suppressed greatly, but the moments like tonight, when he pulls me out of my lonely environment to work like an absolute dork on issues that I could care less about, I ponder what I could be doing instead.

It was a Friday night.

Normal people would get off and either relax at home with their families or go out with friends.

I then realize, once again, that I _could_ and _should_ be doing these things, and I never did. And for some reason that supplied the greatest unhappiness of all.

"Are you alright?" He asked, and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, which broke my concentration. We had pulled into my apartment.

"Hmm?" I ask. I felt the moisture on my eyes. I tried to suppress my previous emotions and apparently was not doing a satisfactory job.

"Scully, what's wrong with you tonight? And don't say you're  _fine_ , because you're _not_ ," he prodded, and anger seemed to rise within him.

"I don't know," I said after I had taken a deep breath. That _was_ true for the most part.

Was I having some sort of life crisis? I felt so stupid. This was not the time.

Not in _front_ of him.

"You're going to have to help me understand. And, why were you so angry at me back there? I'm a big boy. I can handle it, but I'd be lying if I told you it didn't bother me," he said,  and searched my face for some kind of answer, in case I disregarded the question.

I was thankful I knew how to explain that part.

"Mulder, you were so quick to ignore my feelings on going there tonight. So we went anyway, and I'm not complaining. But I absolutely did not appreciate you jumping the gun and making my decisions for me. The date was aimed at _me_. Whether I was going to go or not, was _my_ choice. When the investigation was placed in my hands, you rejected the possibility. Were you suggesting that I wasn't capable?" The words flooded from my mouth.

He stared at me, eyes wide, and brow furrowed.

"I would never insult your intelligence or your independence. Is that how you felt?" He asked.

"To be honest that is exactly how I felt."

"I apologize, but that's not why I answered for you. Do you really want to go on a date with this joker?" He asked, with more crucial aspects in his voice than with the other questions.

"Of course not. But, it's not the first time that I've gone through with something I hated," I said with agitation. His face fell. "Mulder that wasn't aimed at you," I added more gently.

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, and he was smiling for my benefit. I hoped I had not hurt his feelings.

"Scully, I don't want you to do this," he mumbled, and stared at the steering wheel.

"I have to... They've already arranged everything, and apparently we need the information," I said.

"I know that. But I'm not...I'm not comfortable with it," he said, while he shook his head. Finally, he made eye contact again. I raised my eyebrow, and he chuckled. "Don't look at me like that. I'm serious."

"What do you mean 'not comfortable with it'?" I questioned.

It was not as if this Teddy Grossman was a total charmer, from the way he had been described. Even if he were, it was not Mulder's concern.

"I dunno. If you want to do it then I support you."

"Mulder, I don't _want_ to do it. But I'm going to, plain and simple," I said.

He looked up at me and smiled painfully.

"You do all the things you don't want to do. When does Dana Scully get to enjoy herself?" he said, and I noticed that the gaze we were so guilty of had just occurred between us.

Did he just call me _Dana_?

"You're the most unselfish person I've ever met," he added.

I did not feel unselfish.

Suddenly, I felt more selfish than ever. I had previously turned my anger toward him, and unfairly at that. The moments like these, when he praised me, were so humbling that I felt as if we were living for each other.

I smiled softly, overcome with emotion.

"I don't know about that," I said, and looked at the clock in his car. It was later than I had thought. "Goodnight, Mulder. And I'm sorry for being so unreasonable earlier."

He smiled whole-heartedly.

"Never unreasonable. Goodnight, kid," he said, and nudged my arm. Moved by words, I sat there for a moment, before I nodded and got out.

I love Fox Mulder.

And, had an impending date with another man. What has my life come to?

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I will openly admit I stole a line from "A Clockwork Orange" in this. I give all credit to Stanley Kubrick and the glorious Malcolm McDowell for that. It will more than likely go unnoticed if you aren't a fan, but just in case you happened to be aware of that, I went ahead to make note of it.

* * *

 

I jumped into the shower, as I needed to release my stress and relax in some way.

My date with Mr. Grossman was set for tonight.

_Tuesday_.

I pondered who in their right mind would set a first date on a weeknight, but soon realized, again, that this was strictly business.

Thank God for that; I wanted this to be over as painlessly and quickly as possible.

What if I had just said no? I replayed the night with The Gunmen and Mulder many times in my head. If only I had not lost my temper.

But, once again, this was my decision wholly.

Perhaps a date was what I needed?

No...no no no.

I had these thoughts and more, with the surrounding steam as my only companion. I let the scalding water envelop me, and took deep breaths.

Earlier, I had chosen to wear my navy dress. It was was flattering on my waist, covered everything to my ankles, but had a low neckline, and I had debated long and hard over the issue of my bust. Needless to say I, decided on it.

After all, it was the only item I owned that I would feel acceptable in.

It would have to do.

Mr. Grossman (or should I allow myself to call him Teddy...?) had made reservations at classy French restaurant. I was a little surprised by this. Perhaps he had some redeemable qualities that I had not been informed of, or good taste, at the least. I had to admit that I had been on far worse dates that could compare in set-up alone.

In my head, I pictured him to be a man in his 40s, somewhat overweight but not disgustingly so. Possible stubble, he seemed like a rough and tough kind of man. He was obviously a jerk.

But, I had plenty of experience with that. My brother was Bill Scully, after all. As long as he was not socially awkward or rude, we would get along.

I was an FBI agent and a medical doctor. I'd seen detestable images... things that no one should ever see: the inbred Peacocks, a Flukeman, the severed head of a magician, and even how Mulder squeezed a tube of toothpaste.

Why was a date so hard to consider?

I wrapped my towel around me and began to dry off. After I was set I looked at my make-up bag.

Decisions, decisions...

That was the worst part of a date. The stress and anticipation of preparing yourself for an evening that may or may not be worth it. In order to feel better abut myself, I wore more make-up than usual. Or, I should say, had the addition of a deep colored eyeshadow and a bright lipstick in comparison to my typical creamy look. I even added more curl to my hair. Volume always looked healthy.

Then, I stopped.

I did not understand what the point would be, to so hard to win the affections of a man who not only would make no impression whatsoever, but that was not interested in pursuing a real relationship.

Once more, it was business. I wasn't even excited. I was too stressed for that.

Soon, moved to the living room and sat down, thinking deeply. I had gotten ready too quickly. The last thing I needed was time to talk myself down about this.

I had too much potential to do just that.

And then, I heard a knock on my door.

I got up slowly...I was never fond of the unknown.

Once I tiptoed over and looked through the peephole, I saw none other than Mulder grinning back at me. I was taken aback.

It was random to say the least, but I disregarded that quickly. In an effort, I tried to make my expression as dry a possible, one eyebrow raised. I would hate to convey how thrilled I was to not be alone for the time being.

When I felt I was ready, I opened the door.

"...Mulder?" I said in monotone. His expression changed the moment he saw me. I tensed immediately. It was all too much, the make-up, the dress, everything. I gripped the door to get control of myself.

"You look... nice. Very nice," he finally emitted after a deep breath. I half smiled in embarrassment and ushered him in.

"Well, what do I owe the extreme pleasure of this visit?" I said, making sure he got comfortable before going to pour ourselves a glass of wine.

I needed it.

Badly.

"Umm, you know, just checking up on you. You ready for this tonight?" he asked. I looked over at him to see the concern in his eyes.

On the fly, I conjured a lie in defense. I wanted to remain cool and collected.

"Date? Oh...! Yeah. It'll be fun," I said and nodded my head with no convincing factors in any way, shape, or form. My voice even got shrilly, something that Mulder would surely pickup on that signified my lie. He looked at me and smiled softly.

"Oh? Well, that's great Scully," he said, and lied in response to my lie.

It was for my benefit. I thanked him silently in my mind.

Soon, I handed him a glass of wine, that he looked at for quite some time before taking a sip. My nerves could not have been more obvious, as my wine was downed quickly.

The silence soon became awkward, so I glanced over at him, but he did not notice. He sat there looking off in the distance.

"I should get going," he said, after he took another sip, and stood up.

"You just got here," I said in shock.

He looked down at the floor. What was _he_ so flustered about? He looked up at me again, and smiled nervously.

"I know. Umm, I guess my coming here was a little random..." he said, struggling for words. I stared at him as he walked to the door.

Then, he spun around quickly.

"Scully, I think you should take your gun," he said with boldness, and an almost humorous intensity in his eyes.

"Mulder, I don't think a gun is appropriate for dinner," I replied.

His brow furrowed.

It was something so ridiculous only he would have suggested it. I did not intend on going into combat with Mr. Grossman. In an attempt to show my calm demeanor on the issue, I left out the fact that I had a large can of unused mace left in my purse. I needed to prove to Mulder that I was perfectly fine in all this.

"I guess not...Just... give me a call when you get back in?" he said more as a statement than a question. I nodded. He threw me a quick half-smile and left abruptly.

I sat down again, now more concerned for Mulder than I was for myself. Then, I looked at the clock once more and got ready to leave.

Upon locking the door behind me, I paused, only for a moment, before I ran back inside to grab my gun.

Never know what might happen, right?

I could no longer go on a date without taking weapons.

It's hard to say what ruined my chance for a normal life.

The FBI, or working so closely with Mulder.


	6. Chapter 6

The chill of the night air rushed upon me as I got out of the car. My instructions were to park here and wait until Mr. Grossman "retrieved" me (that was the exact term he used, according to Frohike). I took a deep breath and waited at the edge of the street next to my vehicle. This was a dark and dismal side of town. Nowhere _near_ our supposed destination. I instinctively felt for my mace.

I had left the gun in my car. It was unfortunate that this item did not fit in the small handbag I had brought for the evening. As time went by, I stood impatient, frown intact and with my teeth gritted. If he was not here in 5 minutes, not only was I going to leave, but I would most definitely plan on tracking down this son of a bitch and giving him a piece of my mind.

Anger and impatience can work _wonders_ on a typical calm demeanor.

I then heard a man clear his throat somewhere beyond where I was located. I corrected my stance and stood erect, as I looked around slowly.

All I could assess were the shadows beyond me. And then, he began to step forward from the alley.

He was a tall, thin man. A suit and tie helped form his figure, and he looked absolutely out of place in the attire as I made note of his awkward motion. He had a hard face, though I could not make out the features. He stopped just in enough light for me to convey that not only was this my "date", but that the initial meeting was secret.

He motioned me forward with his hand.

I walked over in a brisk and no nonsense manner, as I intended to get all of this over with as quickly as possible. As I stepped near, he descended back into the shadows.

This was beginning to annoy me.

"Hello, Ms. Scully. You look excellent. I _am_ thrilled that you had enough pity and confidence in yourself to meet someone such as myself here tonight," he said from his hiding place.

He had a mellow voice. It would have reminded me of Mulder's tone had it not sounded so rough and robotic, and this thought comforted me. I stepped into the shadows to follow, and he stepped back as well. I inhaled deeply.

"If you intended on conducting this in public, why do you continue to hide in _secret_?" I asked, further annoyed. He grabbed my hand from where we were standing and led me through the alley, and never replied.

"Sir. I asked you a question," I said with irritation, once more as a reminder. He never faltered with his movements.

"I am aware of that. Relax," he said as if it were a command.

What a pompous ass. Langely was right.

My eyes flashed up at him in response, although he did not see it. He spoke in frequent monotone. But, the mellow resonance that brought Mulder to my mind preserved the small amount of sanity that I carried with me on this particular evening.

The idea of Mulder keeping _me_ sane? This was a night of firsts.

"Mr. Grossman we agreed to do this on your terms, but I would appreciate if you would stop throwing out orders at me," I spat, with figurative daggers that catapulted from my eyes.

He simply snickered.

"You know, the words you've just used suggest politeness, but your tone and body language said something all together different. Who's barking orders now?" he asked.

I snatched my hand from his (to his humor) and remained silently angry as we approached a busy and well lit area ahead.

"To answer your original question, I hide in secret to protect all the secrets that are my own. You and I will be the only individuals dining this evening. Not only did I make reservations, but I reserved the entire restaurant. I hope that you don't mind..." he said. Without control, my eyes rolled in utter annoyance.

It did not matter to me. At this rate, tonight would end more quickly than I had planned, and probably with my having another outburst similar to the one I had with Mulder.

I eyed his pocket and saw it stuffed with the information that he had promised to bring, regarding the UFO conspiracy that Mulder desired. I reminded myself once more that all of this was for him, even if he had objected. We walked a bit more before arriving.

It was French cuisine.

The staff bent over backwards at the sight of Mr. Grossman and myself, and I assumed that he must have been loaded. White-collar-crime was my best bet, as a means to afford his excessive tastes.

We were led immediately to a candle lit table, a water fountain just beyond us.

During the process of sitting down, I glanced to get a good look at my companion this evening, curious in the midst of my anger.

He graying a bit, but it was more of a salt and pepper look. He appeared to be in his mid 50s, but was good for the years. The few creases and wrinkles on his face aged him the most, yet the distinctive jawline provided a younger appearance. He had gray eyes that complimented his hair. They were large and captivating, perhaps the only exceptional quality in his possession.

"The _only_ exceptional quality?" He blatantly asked. I stared at him, dumbfounded and still irritated.

"You considered my eyes and said that they were the only exceptional quality I had. It's worth mention that I can read your mind. I hope you enjoy my honest confession, normally I would have taunted you with it for the remainder of this evening," he said casually.

My eyes widened. I cringed at his false confession. Was I so psychically obvious that he guessed my thoughts? I had not been told of his skillful awareness.

He smiled and immediately reached into his pocket before giving me the information he had.

"I heard you thinking of this earlier, although that part _was_ particularly obvious considering you kept staring at it. And, don't be angry with your nerd buddies. They were not aware of my...gift. But yes, I can read your mind," he said, grinning.

"Are you aware that I am a medical doctor?" I asked. Surely he did not expect me to believe him and his "gift", although I must admit it that he had two very correct assumptions.

"What you're really asking, is do you expect someone like me to suggest something so farfetched to a logical individual such as yourself. Yes, I am, and yes, I can read your mind. I don't need to prove myself to you, I just issued it as a warning," he said casually once again, before looking down at the menu.

I glared at my menu, bewildered fully. We sat in silence while we decided on what to dine on. My mind was racing.

"The duck is excellent, contrary to what you just considered. I suggest you order it," he said quietly, without looking up from his menu.

"Listen, dammit! I don't know how or what it is that you're doing, but stop it now!" I whispered loudly, leaning into him. He glanced up.

"I can't just... turn it off. But, I will stop answering your mental queries out loud. It's all I can offer," he said.

I stared at him with ferocity, and he grinned again.

"You're quite the firecracker. I must admit it's a complete turn on. It's why I suggested your company."

I fumed as the waiter came to take the orders. I ordered steak, much to Mr. Grossmans dismay, and was confused beyond belief, but I refused to believe that someone like this could have the control over another person's mental processing. Then again, I did not have a medical answer, or any answer at all for that matter, to verify my personal belief.

But that was of no consequence.

"May I ask you a question?" he said, and I glared at him.

"Yes. Go ahead," I said with severity. He smiled with such deviousness that I considered giving him a swift kick under the table.

"What is the nature of your relationship with Mr. Mulder?" he asked coolly.

I snapped.

I placed my napkin on the table and got up.

"Mr. Grossman, this has been the most unfortunate 30 minutes of my life. I thank you for an unforgettable evening."

As I snatched my purse, he got up quickly before grabbing me by the arm. But, when gave him the death glare, he let go immediately.

"No. Please, we've already ordered. I know, I know, I'm a snarky bastard, please stop asking me to fuck myself, it's quite rude. I know it's all in your head and you're not stating it verbally, but it still hurts. All I ask is for us to finish dinner," he begged, the words rushing out.

I stared back, wide eyed. For some reason, I listened, and sat down once more.

"Thank you, I feel much gratitude. And I did not mean to offend you about Mulder. But, I really am curious. You've compared me with him tonight on more than one occasion," he said quietly.

"If you could read my mind you would not have to ask," I spat.

"No, that's the issue. Fox Mulder is the only subject in your head that has no path. It's hectic and it changes continuously. This is why I ask you," he said, completely genuine for the first time all night.

My heart sank to my feet.

_The only subject with no path_.

He had produced a human response from me, and I froze, before I swallowed hard.

"Does this upset you? You've gone quite pale," he asked, eyes wide. I could see that he did not mean to prod, as he truly was curious on this one subject.

Ah, what the hell. This man would not have anyone to discuss my issues with, he was hated by all. Why not go ahead and tell him the whole truth about Mulder and I.

Well...

...What _was_ the truth?

I sank further into my seat.

He stared at me with cautious eyes.

I was nervous I would say too much and embarrass myself.

He had caught me when I was low and weak. My chest heaved and opened like a floodgate.

"It's complicated to explain," I began.

"Please, try me. We've got plenty of time," he said, eagerly.

I took a deep breath, and thought of where to begin.

How would I relay this part of the date to Mulder on the phone tonight?


	7. Chapter 7

Mr. Grossman sat there, staring, awaiting my response.

My mind was racing. I was debating on how much should I tell, as the course of my relationship with Mulder was a huge time span to convey to my clueless dinner companion.

I would simply have to tell the truth and let everything go as it may.

The unknown possibilities produced a sick feeling of dread in the pit of my body. I was also oddly content with the idea that I could share my inner emotion on this subject with someone for the first time.

I discovered however, at that moment, that I did not know how to express myself fully.

As a woman in her mid-thirties, I still had not learned how to portray effectively what I felt. My mother had always complained that I was not an easy child to coddle, because I always struggled with making my needs known for what I felt.

I was not sure even, at this point, what it _was_ that I felt.

I loved Mulder, this was evident. But where did I see us _going_? I was a strong, Type A personality. The fact that I had not created a few realistic scenarios of where we could be headed in the future showed me what I had always known but chose not to assess in depth: I was running from it all.

Love was a complicated matter. It's shown as the most magical and intense emotion that someone can feel, and I do not deny that.

But, there are so many other emotions that come with it. Ones that are far more complicated, and ones that could break a person if they were not ready. Fear, mistrust, and the threat of loneliness, just to name a few. I had experienced more of _these_ feelings, after coming to the realization that I loved him, than the feeling of love itself.

All those years ago, I had unconsciously made a choice that was bearing down on me today: the choice to love Fox Mulder.

There was a constant battle within me.

Yes, I had made the choice to love him, but I had also decided to limit myself in the process. It was a huge contradiction that I had been living. After all these years, I did not see how it could be changed now, if we were ever to take it to the next level.

I did not see how _I_ could change.

This was something I had never before considered.

_"'_ Mulder and I have been working together for about 7 years now..." I began slowly, not really aware of how to make the introduction.

"Yes, I am aware of that part. The X-Files," he stated. I nodded in agreement, but his eyes pressed me on.

"I really have no idea where to go from here," I confessed, referring to the way in which he wished me to give him the information he was curious about.

I found, however, that it could also refer to the state of my relationship with Mulder.

"I know what you meant originally, although your afterthought is somewhere to begin. Tell me the truth, do you love him?" he asked. I stared back into his eyes before looking at the napkin in my lap. I could feel my face harden with each moment.

"Yes," I choked out after a long pause.

Finally, after I felt the adrenaline cease, I looked back up at him.

"That fact that you fight your desire is your biggest issue, are you aware of that?" he said.

I sat silent and bewildered once more, before he continued.

"I was asking you if you loved him to see if you would deny it or not, which you were debating long and hard over. I can read that you love him, that part blares itself boldly in your mind and your heart. I've never witnessed a stronger vibe. Even if I did not have my 'gift', it would be obvious," he said.

"I love him, I do very much," I said in a soft voice, feeling weak, but with the desire to fight this emotion with all the power I had.

"Does he feel the same?" he asked in bold manner.

The doubt that resided in the pit of my soul began to pulsate forward. I believed very strongly that Mulder loved me as well. At this point in our relationship, the unspoken hope of what could be was bright.

But, he and I had never conversed about "us". Once again, I contemplated his dedication and his pursuit of the things he wished for. When Mulder wanted something, he did all he could to get it.

So _why_   were he and I still in the _dark_ about all of this?

Although it is one of his qualities that has driven me to my breaking point time and time again, I have always felt as if his fierce disregard for the rules would be a catalyst for he and I to move forward together.

Truth be told, I was waiting for Mulder to initiate. If he were the one to initiate, then I would feel wholly that it was what he always wanted. In fact, I would be comfortable.

But , if _I_ were the one to openly express my feelings first, I would not only be embarrassed, but it is my personal belief that if he _did_ feel nothing, he would pretend that he did for my benefit.

I would not take Mulder's pity. That would be far worse than rejection.

"I don't know," I said honestly. It was the truth. Mr. Grossman sighed angrily.

"You do not know _for sure_. But you mentally stated shortly after my question that you strongly believe he loves you. That's enough to act on. But you're terrified, aren't you? A woman such as yourself does not allow for much affection. This must be hell for you," he stated, and took a sip of his wine.

"I suppose it can be, yes. But, I am not unhappy in our current situation," I defended.

Mr. Grossman glanced up to argue with me on my previous statement, but luckily the food had arrived. I smiled at the waiter in appreciation, my mind lucky to have gained a small break.

We began to eat, and I was pleased with how well he did not press the subject.

"I only gave you a moment to collect yourself, but I will continue to press this subject," he said, almost laughing. I raised my brow. "If you spend all your time alone thinking about this man, I'm sorry to tell you, but you are not happy with your current situation. The 'Mulder' portion of your mind is a vortex of ever changing desire and confusion," he said after a few minutes.

The part of me that wanted to cringe at how melodramatic he had made it seem, was stifled when I swallowed a bite of my food.  

"Explain that part to me, if you don't mind," I asked, after a moment.

I could not believe I was in the middle of an intimate discussion with a stranger, but we were far too surrounded in the depths of the issue to simply drop the topic.

Also, I could not understand why he felt such strong interest, but we continued regardless of this thought.

"You see, your mind is ridiculously organized. You make clean cut decisions, you know always know your next move. And the moment Mulder comes into your mind, your processing is shaken," he said.

"Why is that?" I questioned. If he loved to convince others of his "abilities" surely he could answer this.

Mr. Grossman rolled his eyes at the thought,  and suddenly I found myself think of an apology inside my mind. He cleared his throat to continue.

"You think you know what it is that you want, but you don't. If Mulder were to walk in right now and profess his love, what would happen?"

"I would savor the moment, I suppose,"I murmured.

This was a bit of a lie. Truthfully, I had no idea what I would do. 

I had wished on Mulder for such a vast amount of time that I had ultimately forgotten how to process our future in realistic fashion. Actually, I believe I stopped planning when I knew I loved him.

I had never truly considered anything else happening.

That is, until this moment.

"Let's say he asked you where you wanted to go from there, after his confession. You would have no answer?" he asked. I nodded, becoming uninterested at this point.

I was too caught up in my own thoughts to answer intelligently. We ate in silence.

* * *

"You need to make some decisions," he said after we finished our meal.

We were walking out of the restaurant.

"Yes," I said, still not fully involved in the present, with all thoughts on Mulder.

"To answer a question you had some time ago, I was strongly interested in this topic tonight because at some point, I feel as if I were in a similar situation that you are in now. Not over a relationship, but... my career. I had not planned far enough ahead, I waited too long, and I became overwhelmed when I tried to grasp at the chances given to me. Now I'm rogue, living in secret. I'm _bitter_. I do not want the same future for you. Stop running," he explained.

I looked up at him to see him gazing down at me. For some reason, I deeply appreciated his caring gesture.

"I wish I could tell you that all of this cleared up my mind, but I feel more overwhelmed now than I did before. I do have more direction, though, I admit. Thank you, for everything," I said, and pointed to the information he had given me at the start of our evening.

My mind flashed to Mulder immediately, but I quickly shook the thought. He smiled.

"I would walk you to your car, but I know that you want to be alone," he said, and I nodded. After he shook my hand, we began to walk our separate ways.

Then, I heard him call my name, shortly after.

"If you don't mind, I would prefer if you did not tell anyone about my confession. Especially The Gunmen, or whatever they're called. They scare me, they know too much, especially the little one. A little mystery never hurt anyone," he said.

I smiled to agree, and watched him walk away.

Had he referred to Frohike as the little one?

I walked to my car in a daze. This was a night I would not forget. It had not gone in the direction that I had assumed it would by any means, and I had never been on a date where I talked about another man.

But, then again, Mulder was not just another man.

I would be lying if I said I was alright.

I was shaken from the purge and admittance of emotion, and all I wanted was to get home as soon as possible so that I could contemplate everything that I needed to on a full scale. But, I felt it necessary to remark that although I _was_ uncomfortable with my own ignorance on the future of Mulder and myself, I had a determined drive for the future, now.

A blazing fire had been ignited within me.

Things were going to start to change.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N David Duchovny used the term "human credential" during an interview some years ago to describe Mulder's relationship with Scully. I take no credit for coming up with that part, as you will find below.

__

* * *

**MULDER'S POINT OF VIEW**

The sunflower seeds on the table nearest me where not enough to clear my head. The tense crack of the shell between my teeth, the salty residue left on my lips...

It was the only thing I could do to help pass the time, as I replayed the events of the past few days. What had happened earlier tonight, was especially on my mind, when I had attempted to prevent Scully from going out with that jackass.

It was futile.

The expression on her face was a thickly painted on fabrication, and I saw through it easily. Well, at least, I hope it was. That was so... Scully. It was evident that she had tried her hardest to convey to me that she was alright and excited when she wasn't at all.

She had poured, and then gulped, the wine in her hand so quickly that for a moment I got worried she may choke. I sat on her couch like a complete _dunce_. I wanted to tell her what I felt more than ever at that moment. Not only my true feelings for her, but the fact that I was so ridiculously jealous. Hell, I would have begged her to stay in with me for the evening instead of going out. I just did not want to even think about her in presence of this son of a bitch Grossman.

Or any man, for that matter. Let's just be honest here.

I could not imagine her actually _desiring_ to socialize with a stranger. And, a stranger who did not follow the rules at that. No, she could not have wanted to go. It just wasn't possible. I mean, she had blatantly told me in the car ride just a few nights ago that she did not want to do it.

I was not sure why I continued to doubt her. But, tonight she had looked so ready to leave, and so beautiful in that dress. Was she trying to impress him? No no, that would not have been her intention. It was strictly business.

_Right?_

I was aware that Scully wanted so much more from her life than she had going on now, and that she's been confined to chasing things that go bump in the night with me: Spooky Mulder, King of Darkness. I wanted so much _more_ for her, but I was terrified that if I let her on to that simple fact, she may give up on this ridiculous quest and move on to bigger and better things.

If she ever left me, I don't know what I would do with myself. I feel no shame for that. Everyone knows it, I mean, it's not like I've been intentionally keeping a secret.

My name should be changed to _Lovesick_ Mulder.

The folks at the FBI pitied me, and for that I rejoiced that Scully was an intellectual. Although she was stuck with someone like me, she thankfully still had the respect of our peers. Because we were a team, and because she was as loyal to me as I was to her, it showed the world that I may not be as crazy as I seem. Scully was my only redeemable quality...she was my human credential.

I had no idea how she consistently disregarded my obvious affection toward her. Unless, of course, she was aware of my feelings, and ignored it in fear of hurting my pride due to her lack of emotion for me. But by now, I could care less about my pride. I did not have any left to even save myself from the agony that would follow from that, should I need it.

As I sat, deeply moved by my thoughts, I became more convinced of telling her how I felt more than ever. I simply had no option. I mean, I could handle rejection, even though it would kill me, but what I could _not_ handle was sitting here alone for one more night, thinking about her and the possibilities.

Damn, I just wanted to hear her voice. And tonight, I let her willingly slide from the loose grip I held over her.

Was the date going well? Horrible?

I hoped for the last option. I didn't even care that it was terrible to wish for that. Unless of course, the term "horrible" meant that this sick bastard she was dining with had tried to pull the moves on her.

I tensed. It would not be surprising...

Scully wasn't just a woman. She was _the_ woman.

Any man who had the opportunity to be graced with her presence knew it. I wish I could count all the dirty looks I've thrown at the men we encounter during our investigations. Especially that idiot, bucktooth grinning Sheriff Hartwell. He really thought he was something special. What a country _bumpkin_. I glanced anxiously at the clock, one of many times this evening.

And why hadn't she called me? It was late, or rather, later than I was comfortable with for her to be out with some stranger. Suddenly, I realized that she would have had my ass if she knew I had felt so possessive over her...but, I don't know what she thought she was _doing_ to me! She had kept me here alone with my worry.

I felt anger rising. Dammit...dammit all. This was all so pathetic on my part. God, I would really have to hope that this guy hadn't swept her off her feet in my absence. After all, it had taken me this long to gain the courage to start something, I had obviously had yet to woo her.

So here I sat, like a teenage girl with tear-stained cheeks because her latest fling had failed to call, as I awaited _Scully's_ call.

I swore to myself, that this would be the last time I watched her date some unworthy asshole. I simply could not stand it any longer. Seven years was far too long to suppress true emotion. I

If she would just call and let me know that nothing happened, and that she felt nothing for him... if I could simply hear the words I needed to hear, I would plan out what I needed to do. I wanted to be the one to sweep her off her feet, like some magical prince with a unicorn steed in one of those lame movies geared to socialize little girls. Dammit, I wanted the fairy-tale.

I wanted her to let me love her with my full ability, like she deserved. There was nothing greater, as far as I could think.

I needed to get that call, and hear the words slip easily from her mouth, so I could set the plan in motion. A plan deemed, _Operation: Bring Dana Scully to Me_.

...or BDSM for short.

...Uh, well, maybe I won't give it a name.

But I will have to let her know, soon. And, if I'm lucky, she may just say she loves me back. Though I had never been a man of strong religious faith, I found myself pray that she might.


	9. Chapter 9

**SCULLY'S POINT OF VIEW**

It seems humorous to me that the most random events in our lives leave the largest impact. Just this afternoon, I had been a different person. Different from who I am now at the moment, as I sipped coffee late at night for no good reason. I have work following early in the morning, though I do not believe I will be able to sleep tonight.

I debated on whether or not I should call Mulder, but there was a huge possibility that he was sound asleep, as he should have been, unlike me.

Then again, I also know that the idea of him nestled deep into his slumber is a flimsy, but reasonable, excuse to _not_ converse with him before I felt fully ready. There was far too much on my mind concerning him as the subject, to strike up a conversation with the source of my confusion. What would the conversation have consisted of? _"Mulder, it's me. I just wanted to let you know the date had a different outcome than expected...what's that, I sound stressed out? No no, not at all. I'm just worn out. Talk to you tomorrow."_ I needed a few hours. In the state I was currently in now, there would be no way for me to talk to him, and babble about non-important topics when there were internal conflicts that bubbled under the surface of my calm exterior. I may let more slip out than I intended, which would be terrible. Thankfully, I knew I would be composed for work in the morning.

There was too much I wanted to say, and there was so much I was undecided on, in terms of how I would go about dealing with all of these emotions, and in turn conveying them in a subtle but more obvious way to him. That was the plan, at least. As long as I remain subtle, if he noticed the slight change, one of two things could happen. One, is that he could take the opportunity and run with it. The second, is that if nothing happened at all on his part, I would not feel ashamed. There would be no awkwardness, and our dynamic would not be drastically changed. In order to make this fool proof, I would cling to the last option, just in case. I would hate to assume all of this would work out when in reality so much could happen to get in the way. And by happen, I mean _not_ happen.

To my core, I meant what I had promised myself earlier. There was _indeed_ a fire that had been ignited within me. Instead of ignoring what I felt to the best of my ability, as I usually did, I needed to grant myself freedom. There were no longer limits, as far as I was concerned. Naturally, I would not go so out of character as to change the way that I am. But, that is where Mulder comes in. From now on, with any occasion that breaks the boundary of friendship and he begins to flirt as he so often does, I will not disregard him.

I ponder how hard that will be. I am so accustomed to holding back, to shunning my emotions, and portraying the opposite of what I felt to Mulder. Whenever he did something flattering, all too often I responded with a dry manner. This is what he is accustomed to as well from me, by now. I wonder if it will throw him off to see the change in my behavior, and if he will either accept it or become confused by it.

I tried my hardest to dig into the files of my own memory to remember the times when I did _not_ hold back. There was that moment he and I shared, some years ago, in the forest. He had made the comment of stripping nude and sharing a sleeping-bag, to which I responded with allure. For a brief moment, the expression on his face seemed...could I be as bold to suggest that the expression was _hopeful_? If that was indeed the case (I was definitely counting on it) then this plan may work well.

I only wanted to show him more obviously how I felt. That was all. It was entirely up to Mulder to decide where it goes, if we move forward in any way. That is where the fear element comes in for me. I was putting my complete faith in him. Faith, first and foremost, that he may as well have feelings for me in the way that I feel for him, with the hope that he held a willingness to pursue more for us just as I wanted to do. I had unconsciously made that decision long ago, but now it would be evident to me.

Also, I had to consider that it might not actually progress to anything at all.

I will not allow myself to overload and put too much on my plate. After all, I have to draw a line somewhere. I will only hope for _the_ moment, that Mulder might recognize what I was trying to do, and we begin to move forward in some small way. I would not allow myself to grow attached to mere fantasies.

But, I could go ahead and plan for the possibilities, just in case. As long as I did not become _dependent_ on my wishes, it would be fine. After all, I had gone 7 years without a single plan being formed. I deserved a little room to ponder and stretch my imagination, and I did not want anything going unconsidered. Surprises were not my fancy.

"What if" is where I headed now...

Let's begin with the positives: What if it worked out? Mulder and I are fond of unspoken, hushed affection. If it did begin to work out (i.e. we flirt openly with each other and make it known that, without a doubt, we want it to go in this direction) it would not be stated verbatim. But, he and I would both be aware of a change. How would we take it to the next level, if I could go as far to suggest becoming a couple? There is a friendship at stake. I would not want to rush into this quickly. We would need to allow ourselves to grow for quite some time, in terms of comfort with the change of being aware of our romantic feelings. So that, of course, neither of us is turned on and intrigued solely by the idea of the unknown excitement. If that were the case, and we rushed into a relationship, it could get very boring, very quickly.

I wanted us both to be comfortable with long-term. I did not foresee it working out without a long-term commitment. Surely, he would feel the same. It seemed ridiculous to have a wonderful friendship for such a long time, just to date for a few months and end it. It would be impossible to undo everything that we had progressed to over that short time.

This would have to be discussed at length at some point, if we ever reached it.

I also had to consider the changes that would occur in the process. How would we conduct ourselves at work? We could not let on there. We would run the risk of Skinner having our asses, although Skinner had overlooked quite a lot of our rule-breaking, and by this point probably assumed that we have been sexual without the excessive benefits for quite some time. There is the possibility that he would not fire us for it, but I did not want to take that chance. So, we would not let our work colleagues in on our romance.

But, it's not like either of us have true friends there, so I suppose it is not a secret if there are not people who really desire to know what _could_ be going on. I will disregard how depressing that is only for the moment.

How would we conduct ourselves with each _other_? Friendship had always been our dynamic. It was what I fell in love with from the start. With the addition of sex (I flush at the possibility, but it must be considered), I wonder how much would change. I did not want Mulder to change his actions with that addition, or myself. It would make the changes far too complicated to deal with. The way I saw it, we would carry on as we would as platonic friends in public, and for most of the private moments we would have as well. Romance would only be in private, so very, _very_ private. Like a switch, as I had referred to Sheila some time ago, although in different context. What if our relationship were like a switch? One for the friendship, one for the romance. It seems far too black and white, while most couples dwelled in a grey area, but once again, Mulder and I will never be "normal". Neither of us was very affectionate, so it seemed to me that it was plausible. Innuendo and verbal sparring was the usual extent of our subtle flirting, which I loved, because there was such an intellectual bond involved.

Who is to say it _would_ not work...who is it say it _could_ not work?

Oh, sweet possibilities.

Let's go ahead and tackle the negatives: As I said before, if Mulder and I do not progress in any way to begin with, I do not consider it a negative, because there would be no awkwardness. I could pretend as if I never had the thoughts I consider now. It would be a little hard, but it would not be impossible. After all, I had been faithful liar and denier this long.

The negatives come into play if he and I begin this together and hit a snag. No couple is perfect, we will surely not be the exception. We are not perfect in the way we are now, and adding a title would not improve us in any way. But, what if he and I began this, and realized it was no longer what we wanted anymore. It could be after months, or, it could be after years. But the fact is, it could _happen_. And, it more than likely would be me deciding to move on, I am not too proud to consider that. What upset me most, however, was Mulder's absolute dedication to lost causes. If our relationship would benefit in the future most by splitting up due to countless issues, he would deny it consistently, and fight for us even when there was no longer anything to fight for, which made me feel sick. How would we handle it?

I suppose the friendship dynamic could help there. If we broke it off, we would not have to change daily habits. We would come to work, do our jobs, and go home, conducting ourselves to the public as we always have. The only place it would become disturbing for us would be if we became accustomed to romance together, and, yes, the sex. How would we make the transition to being just friends again? If being just friends is not gratifying enough now, it would surely mean less to both of us if we became romantic partners and then took it back like it was nothing. So much would have to be undone.

I do not know how I would handle it.

To know I have failed is not something that I am good at. But to know I have failed with Mulder...

It was simply just too much.

Attempting to have a relationship meant taking risks. We are _not_ promised anything. He and I would both go forward being aware of this. We would have to realistically consider that it _may not work_. But, it is so much easier said than done. Even though the benefits far exceed the negatives, it is still a touchy subject. And it will only get worse as we progress (if we progress). The secret fear in the back of my mind would eat away at me...and the fear of losing him at first. It would plague me more than it would Mulder. I wished so desperately at times to be as go-with-the-flow and optimistic as he was, but I was far too realistic to allow myself to do that.

It cannot be helped. I would have to overcome my fears.

But, I love Mulder. And I need him, just as I believe he needs me. Despite the challenges that may arise from a nasty break-up, he and I have to be involved in each others lives. It may take great dedication to overcome the complications, but we would have to defeat them. There is no other option, plain and simple. That is the only thing I _am_ sure of.

As far as I'm concerned, it has always been Mulder and I against the world. I do not believe anything could change that, not even a damaged ego.

I glanced at the clock. 12:41 A.M. distinguished itself in bright red glow through my dark bedroom. I began to nod off to sleep, peaceful for the first time all day.

I was soon awoken at 12:58 A.M.

I scrambled to my feet, as one does when being forced from a fresh slumber. I fiddled through my room to locate my cell phone, before I became aware that it was my house phone that was ringing. I paled immediately. Late night phone calls never meant good things. I dreaded to hear the sound of my mother or one of my brother's voices. What if my job had endangered my family once again? My mind flashed to Melissa.

"Hello?" I answered, more frantically than I had intended.

"Scully..." he said, letting out a sigh, "It's me. I, um, know it's late. I hope I didn't wake you up but you never called me, and I got a little worried," said Mulder. I eased at the sound of his voice.

"Mulder, no no, don't worry. I wasn't really asleep. I didn't keep you waiting, did I?" I asked, hoping that he had not wasted a whole night waiting for the call he had requested.

" _Me_? No, not at all... I fell asleep after a while, but I just woke up and I remembered that I hadn't heard from you..." He remarked. I had heard this tone used by him on numerous occasions, such as when I had ventured away for the weekend, only to return to find pencils in the ceiling of our office. And, he sounded completely alert. There was nothing in the tone of his voice to indicate that he had ever fallen asleep. I smiled.

"Oh? Well, I sure hope you slept well," I said, stifling a laugh. I would play along.

"...How was your date?" He said, high-pitched after a long pause. Did I sense false optimism?

"It was alright. Not what I had expected... but not terrible," I said.

_Oh, Mulder. You have no idea._

"That's great Scully. That's just really great. Think you'll go out with him again?" He asked boldly. I was shocked at his alertness this late, or rather early, in the morning.

"No, I don't believe I will," I said, not trying to be mysterious but truthfully not wanting to go into detail of what had occurred. It was a a lot even for Mulder to believe.

"Did he _pull_ something? I told you that you should have taken your gun!" he declared.

"No Mulder, calm down. He did not _try_ to _pull_ anything," I said. I tried my hardest to sound stern, when in reality I was trying to hide the fact that I was finding this all too humorous.

"Oh, well never mind," he mumbled.

"Mulder, sleep tight okay?" I cooed, as I was exhausted, and needed to rest my mind from its Mulder-overload.

"I expect to hear every detail in the morning. I want to know _all_ about your night," he said more gently.

"Yes, I will," I agreed.

"Oh, and Scully?" He asked. He really tried to draw this conversation out. I openly admitted to myself that I found it adorable.

"Yes, Mulder?" I said in response.

"You looked good tonight. Really good."

"Thank you. Now rest your pretty little head," I said ,as if addressing a child.

"Yes ma'am. Goodnight," he replied with a laugh, and his words resonated in my ear.

His voice was the last thing I heard before I drfited to sleep once more.

And let me just say, it was _absolutely_ the best way to fall asleep.

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

A pink, orange, and subtle blue hue of dawn greeted me, as I had awakened before my alarm clock had gone off.

The gentle glow of the sun overcame the moon beyond me, and the light from the window gave the room a nice and comforting atmosphere. There was something so magical about awaiting the sunrise. The light slowly but surely flooded into the room to signify the dawn of a new beginning...

I did not rush out of bed and into the shower as I usually would; instead I simply lay there...and took a moment to intoxicate myself with the beauty of it all.

As of recent, I was loving new beginnings.

The thrill of change.

The excitement of possibility.

It was all so _invigorating_.

* * *

I stood outside of the office, checking once more to be sure that I had brought all of the information given to me from Mr. Grossman. I awaited the secret rush I would get from placing it on Mulder's desk, to show him physical proof of the success of the evening that he had never intended on going through with.

Success, also, for reasons other than having acquired the packet of information, but that would be left out. For now, at least. Some day I wished to tell Mulder what really happened on the night I dipped myself back into the (strictly business) dating world. I hoped that some day we would get there.

But, as I warned myself last night, I would take each step one day at a time.

When I opened the door, I saw Mulder grinning at me from his desk.

"I wasn't sure I'd ever see you walk through that door again. You know, with you going on a date with someone who might not be fully stable, and all. I mean, hearing your voice on the phone was enough, but to see you in the flesh is something all together more special," he said.

I shook my head, and suppressed a smile, before I pulled out the folder with the information he had requested.

"Are you not the least bit concerned about _this_?" I asked, waving it around. He immediately focused, taking the papers from me, and I sat down. He ran his fingers through the pages doing a quick overview, but I had not actually read them. For one, I still was not quite sure what Mulder had been looking for, and assumed it was a more of a personal quest for the X-Files, than an actual case. Sometimes, he baffled me.

I frowned at him as he glanced up at me and shoved the papers aside.

"Yeah yeah, UFO conspiracy. But something _much_ more unusual went on last night with you and Scully, and I gotta hear all about it," he said, curiosity overflowing his body.

"Mulder...you're choosing to discuss me over conspiracy? You sure know how to make a girl feel special," I said, eyebrow raised.

"I would choose _you_ over everything. But you have to give me details on your evening, I'm dying here," he begged, on edge. I found myself more than a little hung up at the first part of his statement. I did not want to overthink everything. But, despite this, I was still overjoyed.

"Yes, but only the details that I am willing to share," I said, and I wished to work up a response from him.

"But... you said you'd tell me everything, Scully... you promised!" he whined softly like a child, intensity in his eyes. I chuckled.

"We went out to dinner, and we chatted. Typical first date type things, I suppose. Only he chose to meet me in an alley, and we did not initially hit it off from the beginning, although we luckily overcame that. He was controlling, it was like he expected me to do what he told me to do. Like I said, we got over that for the most part...but what I have to say next is a little over the top-"  

"-He met you... in an _alley_?" he cut me off, brow furrowed. I took a deep breath and glared at him, as being interrupted annoyed me beyond belief. He caught his mistake and snickered.

"That face, Scully... you give me that look like if I were anyone else in the world you'd just take my head off," he mused.

"I might have to take your head off if you don't let me finish," I grumbled, fully serious.

"I know you think it's threatening, but to be honest it's just adorable. Anyway, please continue where you left off," he suggested, and blew his own flattery off immediately.

_Did he call me_ _adorable_? I pretended for the moment that my heart had not stopped beating, and resumed.

"As I was _saying_ , the next thing I have to mention is something that I'm not entirely sure of, but it's something that he claimed was true. He said that he could read minds," I said casually, awaiting his response.

"Well, there are documented cases laying around despite all the phonies. I mean hell, Gibson could do it for sure, you witnessed that first hand. Are you saying you don't think Mr. Grossman could read your mind?"

"I don't know what I think," I said in defeat after a long pause. Mulder perked up.

"He must have been pretty impressive to produce the reaction you just showed me," he replied, smile on his face.

"Mulder I don't believe as easily as you do, but I must admit he was quite impressive," I said. He drew back in mock surprise.

"He _impressed_   you. Scully, are you smitten? Because that does not seem very professional at all," he suggested.

"Since when have you and I been professional?" I asked. I could see that he was thinking it over carefully.

"I never have been. Back in the day you were strictly by the book, but eventually my influence got to you. Now you're just _slightly_ professional," he said, a clever gleam in his eye.

"I've been corrupted to my core," I said matter-of-factly.

"I could drive it deeper," he said with full confidence, and nodded his head in response to his own statement.

"Would you want to?" I asked. This was playful banter, of course, but I was without a doubt alluding to more. Mulder seemed pleased by this, and shocked at the same time.

This moment was golden.

Here it was. Do or die time.

"Of course. There's still so much we've yet to do..." He said.

"I think we've done quite a lot," I said, which was not a lie. Well, not completely.

"And are you satisfied with that?" He asked boldly.

I realized that he and I were leaning into each other. I could smell him from where I was, that deep, musky scent from his cologne that followed me around everywhere, even when he was not around. The scent I cherished...

"I'm hard to please. Are _you_ satisfied?" I asked.

" _I_ could please you," he said, and absolutely disregarded my question.

"I never said that you couldn't," I murmured, with a devious smile teased at the corners of my lips.

This was not that bad for a first try. I felt as if he and I were having a magnificent first go at this. For my standards, at least. He leaned into me more, never breaking eye contact, before he moved his lips next to my ear.

"Good. I would hate to prove you wrong, Scully, I know how much you like to be the intellectual," he whispered, and I could feel the heat from his mouth tease the side of my ear. I will not deny that I moved my head just enough to brush the side of his face with mine as he slowly pulled away.

There was an expression on Mulder's face that I have never seen before. His eyes were dark, and his lips curled into a subtle smile. It was...hungry. There was heat in this moment, and a heat that he had not expected (although I'm not quite so sure I expected it either).

We sat like that for a few moments, before I swallowed hard. After we gazed at each otehr for a few moments in silence, we resumed our work as if nothing had happened.

But, he and I knew differently.

We were in this together. Oh yes, yes indeed. An unspoken promise had been signed, sealed, and waited to be delivered.

I do not know if we will ever get to where I want us to be, but the fact is, for the first time, there is _pure possibility_.

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

When I look back at the moment he and I shared in the office so long ago (and that is also the location we are at during this very moment, although he is unaware of the things I currently consider...) I see wonderful and terrible consequences.

Time had not truly passed as much as I feel in my heart, but when you desire something with such ferocity, it tends to shake patience. Especially when it had taken seven years for me to even allow myself to flirt _back_ with the man. It had only been a little over a few months, but he and I have been so changed.

I was, and still am, terrified.

I am not too proud to admit that to myself. Never in my life have I trusted someone in this way, though I have only previously trusted Mulder with everything before, so I suppose I have never truly loved until now. I do not question his affections anymore.

Finally, I know that I have gotten what I have wished for, and I believe he does too. I feel no shame for my confidence on the subject. He has yet to let me down in all the time I have known him. Though it has yet to be spoken, I do not believe that it is an issue.

Words have never held much significance for us, anyway.

For example, I have caught him stare at me on numerous occasions as of late. I simply glance over to see that all of his attention is set on me. I do not question it anymore. At first it had made me quite uncomfortable, and I did not grasp what I should do in return for him, but eventually I took notice that the gesture of bringing my eyes to his are enough to produce an expression on his face that I desperately cling to. His eyes are glossed over, with a soft smile intact...and, my God...he is at peace with himself. And for that one moment, I am at peace, too.

I loved that our events were all fresh and lucid. It made for easy recollection when I sat, as I do now, and pondered our progress. Truthfully, I had shocked Mulder at first. Though he would never admit it, it was natural for him to feel shock then, but he is accustomed to it by now.

The last case we were assigned to had us located in Washington: a missing persons case, which Mulder attributed to Big Foot, though we had no conclusive evidence in the end to prove his theory, as usual. It was a chilly night, and I had noticed Mulder shiver (to which he will still deny, such a macho man) while we combed the forest for evidence, and I commented on his obvious physiological response to the cold. He had simply laughed it off and ignored me, and we began the hike back to our motel.

Luckily for me, I had trouble getting into my room, so he came to aid me in my quest. When the door finally opened he came in for a moment to make sure I got settled, and I saw him linger around far longer than necessary. I nearly doubted myself for a moment, but he looked so childish as he stood there, his eyes wide, and my fear of rejection washed away.

"You don't have to leave just now," I had suggested. He smiled at me mischievously.

_"Scully..."_ he cooed, and I rolled my eyes.

"Mulder, this is entirely friendly. What if I make us hot chocolate?" I asked. It seemed completely random, but he had been cold previously, and there he was in front of me. Simply put, I did not want to leave his presence. I would have used any excuse to make him stay. I also knew that he was aware of this by the fascinated look on his face.

"I would like that very much..." he had remarked softly, in awe.

We spent the rest of the evening in my room, drinking the hot chocolate that I had purchased on sale during the previous week for no reason whatsoever. Perhaps it was fate, or perhaps Mulder's incessant rambling on destiny and the like, had contaminated my logical reasoning.

Lately, it seemed as if events had just been playing out as if they _were_ meant to be.

We had also began spending time together outside of work. I do not know why such simple things create the largest feelings of satisfaction, but I suppose that is the joy of it. I can clearly remember the first day he called me up. It was a Saturday afternoon, I was about to eat lunch and thinking of him no doubt, and the phone rang. As if he had read my mind, he asked me if I had wanted to meet him for lunch. So, I did.

We had been referred to as a couple on multiple times that day, not only by the waiter's assumption to give only _one_ check for the both of our meals to Mulder, but from the comments on the people around us. He never mentioned it, nor I, but I could visually see the satisfaction on his face. I am sure that he could see mine.

It was almost as if we were developing a routine.

Then, he invited me over on Friday night. He did not call me on this occasion, instead he had asked me at work. I felt the twinge of excitement in my abdomen, assuming that if he had inquired me while at work that he had fully intended on me coming over, and it was not simply asked on a whim. Which would mean _he_ was thinking about me while _he_ was _alone_. It seemed so juvenile to gain excitement from the thought of that, but to see proof of his affections was something that never ceased to amaze me. I did not need the proof, but I would not deny that I had a list in my mind of his actions, which was being added to each time something occurred where showed me how he felt. 

We had drank that night, while at his apartment. He had consumed more alcohol than I had, and I was more than fully sober, yet he insisted that I not drive home. We had stayed up late, laughing and bickering as usual. I do not remember falling asleep, but when I woke up I found myself next to him. My heart lurched at the sight of him on the couch, at ease, and a low snore emitted from his body. I was never more in love than at that moment. Even with the slight excess of saliva ever so slightly running out of his mouth, there had never been a more precious man.

I ran water through my mouth from his kitchen sink and searched my purse frantically to find a mint, before climbing back onto his couch to fake my slumber. I could have almost sworn I heard him chuckle, but I refuse to believe that he had awaken, only to pretend that he was asleep again. That would be ridiculous...

I am in so deep. And I feel no remorse. This was by far the best thing that had yet to happen to me. I cannot help but wish for us to simply make it official, but I will not rush things. After all, we have spent so long doing nothing at all that I could remain where we are here for even longer. I would do anything to keep him near.

My Mulder, all mine...

I cannot help but ponder that we will run into difficulty. It has all been so easy. What if the actual sex was the struggle? We have never been seriously physical with each other as of yet. I refuse to believe that sexual relations will be complicated, especially with someone such as Mulder. But it had been so long for both of us, and we have never been sexually active together. I would need to prepare myself for this. 

Or worse yet, what if the sex was great, and we had still not made it official? I would not be demoted to that. Surely he would not want a friend with benefits. I would have to hope that he was more responsible than to accept everything, without actually making commitment...

No no no, that would not happen.

I find it funny that the real struggle was my confusion with my own happiness. I do not know what to do with myself. I was just so damn _happy_. It was almost sickening.

"You're thinking very loudly," he said. I glanced up.

"Was I?" I asked, dazed and not completely aware that he had been there.

"Mmhm," he said casually, nodding his head, but his eyes pressed me to get an insight into what I was thinking. I shrugged my shoulders and tried to smile.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked. His head cocked to the side a bit.

"Not a chance," I chuckled, wishing to initiate a challenge to sidetrack him.

"Were they about me?" he asked blatantly.

It was obvious that he disregarded my attempt to sidetrack him, and there was a wide grin was on his face. I tried to maintain composure, but I assumed I failed, because he released a loud but suppressed laugh in his own personal achievement. He had his answer, no doubt.

"That's all I needed to know," he said, ending the conversation, but still maintained eye contact. I tried to frown, but I could feel the smile curl up the sides my lips.

* * *

We resumed our serious work until it was time for us to go home. I said goodbye as I left the office, but as I waited for the elevator, I heard him call my name.

"Hey Scully," he mumbled again when he got closer. I turned to face him, and noticed he stood more close than necessary. I became intoxicated as usual.

"Yes?"

"You don't have to be... ashamed... for thinking about me. It's mutual," he said.

"Mutual?" I asked, in an attempt to play dumb, but he simply chuckled to express that he knew it was an act.

"What I'm... trying to say, is that it's nice to know you think about me too," he said, ever so easily. Mulder was always cool and collected. I looked down for a moment to gain confidence, before realizing I did not need it, and looked back into his eyes.

"Mulder, you're all that I think about, and I'm not ashamed of it," I said with gentle affection. The glazed expression that entered his eyes, paired with my favorite smile, returned to his face.

"You're special Scully, you really are," he murmured.

We were leaning into each other, ever so closely... when the elevator beeped.

Why were all of our best moments interrupted? My mind flashed to that damn, awful, forsaken bumblebee. I still smiled, however, when he slowly grabbed my shoulders, and I was left with the parting gift of a kiss to the top of my head.

My knees go weak with a simple, chaste peck nowhere _near_ my lips. _Oh_ Mulder, what you do to me.


	12. Chapter 12

**(MULDER'S POINT OF VIEW)**

All alone, I stared at the "I Want to Believe" poster in front of me. Over the years, it was funny to consider the changes that had occurred not only inside myself, but in the evolution of Scully and I as a unit...as a team...hell, it was hard to think of a word that would properly describe whatever we had become.

From day one of our meeting, the tacky ass poster I glared at currently, symbolized what I had always needed from Scully. For so long, I had only wanted her to believe in the cases we strived over, to grasp a greater understanding of the paranormal and the unexplainable things that I had pursued with diligence. Due to my immediate respect for her (after all, she was very intelligent. Scully could be quite intimidating for a man to handle. Hell, she still was even to me after all this time...) I had wanted her to believe in what I believed to gain a greater respect from  _her_. To be blunt, I did not want Scully to think I was as crazy as everyone said I was, and I had wanted to prove to her that I was a rational agent who deserved respect despite my work and personal beliefs.

I don't think I ever succeeded in proving that to her fully. In fact, I am fairly certain that never occurred.

But, time does weird things to people. At some point, and I don't know when that was, the poster began to symbolize something all together different from what I had intended. The poster became a personal and secret desire that I had held under wraps for far too long. "I Want to Believe" had become aimed at Scully and her alone; I wanted to believe that I could attain her, to believe that she might find a decent quality left in me, and decide I was worth pursuing.

_"I Want to Believe"_

The statement did not declare something as a truthful fact, it merely suggested to maintain a hope for something.

Since the day I became aware that I loved her, I have always had hope, whether it be for my own personal future, or her own well being. Scully was the light in my life. My crusade for my profession had developed into a quest to make her mine, and I'm not ashamed of that kind of revelation. I would never feel shame for anything that involved Scully. The thought of her produces a thick and heavy feeling of pride in my gut, because if I _could_ have a relationship with someone such as her, the personal demons of mine were at bay.

Somehow, I had conquered myself through loving her.

Which is why I have always been the more open of the two of us. To me, there had never been a struggle to realize my emotion. I suppose though, for Scully, it was a huge struggle. For someone so logical and stubborn, I don't know how long it took her to finally come to terms not only that she cared for me, but that I loved her despite the fact that she tried her hardest to ignore it for so long.

The moment I first realized that, some years ago, I had been so down in the dumps... (Scully has always been aware of my brooding habit). On that day, I recall the two of us in the office, with my head hung low in some sort of self-induced agony, and she planted a simple, chaste kiss to my forehead, before she left in silence. The silence had been for my benefit alone...and suddenly, with the last image of her out the door, it dwelled on me that I had become so selfish in my own crusade, that I had managed to take her gentle affection for granted. 

By then, I had already robbed her of a chance for a normal life in so many ways.

Melissa had died from Scully's association with me alone, not that she blamed me for her sister's death, but anyone else with a sense of wrath would have. However, Scully had always been better than the rest of us common sinners...not that she thought herself to be, but rather, she made sure that conducted herself in a manner that was fair and logical. 

Then, of course, her initial abduction, not to mention, the fact that her cancer struggle and subsequent loss of fertility...perhaps the greatest evil of all...had been a direct complication from Duane Barry.

Which, of course, was a direct complication from _me_.

All the ill in her young life, had been traced back to me, as a result of my own selfish crusade for the truth.

But, it seemed as if things were changing.

If you had told me a year ago that I would stand at the crossroads I face in the present, I would have thought it was impossible. Even I, Spooky Mulder, did not believe. I did not believe that I could be so fortunate to put my plans into action, fortunate enough to woo (or attempt to, at least) the woman I love most genuinely. But here we are.

The honest debate I had in my mind was the decision to either walk or run.

I know that I have her, just as she knows she has me. But how would I take it to the next step?

There was a part of me that wanted to run headfirst, to make things official, to finally talk things out that we have kept under wraps for such a vast amount of time. But, I have known Scully far too long. She had become my conscience over the years, and with her voice in my head I realized that I could not move too quickly. Although I would not mind that in the slightest, I know that starting things so soon would make her uneasy.

All I cared about was keeping her at ease with all of these changes. It had taken so long to non-verbally convince her that it was alright to pursue a romance together. For her to continuously show me the more flirty side of her personality proved two things to me.

One, that she was just a desperate as I was for things to work out. Two, was that she was terrified.

Scully would not change her actions at the drop of a hat. Not only was she trying to prove to me that she wanted this, but she was making herself vulnerable in every way. I had to respect that completely.

I know how her mind conducts itself. She had probably accepted the fact of an impending romance, but she needed proof in every aspect to be comfortable. Mentally and emotionally, we were there.

...So what about the physical aspect?

Scully made my hormones rage like a horny teenager. I know I get her hot and bothered as well...

But attraction is easier than actually becoming physical. Attraction formed in the mind, it was clandestine and hidden away a majority of the time. To become physical, the safety net of attraction is melted away. To become _physical_ , two people had to put their nerves aside and try to please one another in an obvious way. We would have to falter here and there before we would find what it was that we enjoyed from each other. But, it would have complications. We have impossible standards set for ourselves by years of pent up, sexually frustrated emotions geared at one another. Truth is, it may take a while to produce the fantasies we've always wanted.

Scully is a perfectionist. She would stress over everything to try and please me (although I don't think she would have to work too hard). And hell, I can't remember the last time I had sex. The times have changed. What is it that women like nowadays? I fear I've become too accustomed to my own hand.

We would have to swallow our pride. It was as simple as that.

I have never been more ready to pursue this. Scully, however, may struggle with it. I would need to make her comfortable, to ease my way into her (no pun intended but I guess that's exactly what it would lead to).

I would have to do this old school.

I had a loose plan and idea of what I intended to do... the only issue was  _where_  I would do this.  _Where_  would I release the charm on my unsuspecting Scully?

Location, location, location.

All I needed was a place and a way to carry out what I wanted to do.

...And maybe do a little research on how to sexually please a women. At one point I was pretty good. In fact, I know I was. I think?

Damn this was stressful.


	13. Chapter 13

**SCULLY'S POINT OF VIEW (continued)**

Moments after arriving home, by phone began to go off. As usual, I anticipated Mulder's voice.

"Hello?" I answered, hoping to give the impression by the tone I used that I had been actively doing something prior to this conversation.

"Hey Scully, it's me. I know this is short notice and all, but are you busy tonight?" he asked, getting directly to the point.

"Let me see..." I pretended to check my busy schedule, when in reality I was flipping yesterday's mail through my fingers. "No, no I don't think I am. What did you have in mind?"

" _That_  is highly classified," he said, matter of factly.

My curiosity sky-rocketed.

"Why do I have the feeling this is going to lead to something out of character for us?" I questioned. I heard him stifle a laugh. I truly hated surprises, although I was also trying to disguise my satisfaction on spending more personal time with him.

"We'll have fun," he declared.

"...Sure." I said. I cannot deny that I was somewhat worried. Was Mulder capable of making plans at all? I did not know what to expect. I decided it was best to keep my standards as low as possible in the event that this was not as phenomenal as I was being led to believe.

"Good. I'll pick you up at 6," he said.

"Alright. I'll count the hours before I am  _graced_  with your presence," I said, sarcasm flooding from my mouth.

"...Oh...Scully... what are you wearing?" he asked.

"Mulder how many times have we had this conversation?" I said. I heard him laugh once more.

"No, this time I'm serious. Really, what are you wearing?" He asked again.

"Jeans and a white v-neck..." I said.

"Change into a black shirt," he demanded. I rolled my eyes, but stopped when in the background I heard a knock on his door.

"Mulder when did I start taking orders from you?" I questioned. There was a long pause.

"...So does that mean you'll change your shirt?" he said high-pitched, humor in his voice, and ignoring my question all together.

I sighed, before I heard him snicker on the other line.

"I'm going to take that as a yes...I'll see you soon," he said, before he hung up the phone.

This would be a long night.

* * *

I sat on my couch as I awaited Mulder's arrival. I attempted (and failed) to produce a solution in my mind for the issue that plagued me: I was absolutely being kept in the dark on the nature of the events he had planned for us tonight. I was curious as to what he had intended on the terms "events" and "planned".

I had faith in Mulder, I do not doubt that.

But, I am also not sure of his planning skills.

Between the two of us, I am aware in a (very) faint way that I am the one with more social skills. Although they do not exceed his by much, I have attempted in the past to pursue relationships. To my knowledge, my attempts have always worked when I wanted them to. He has more charisma than me by far, and knew how to use it when it counted, but I am almost positive he and I have differing opinions on how to spend an evening with another person.

Then again, that has paid off at least once before. The night he had invited me to play baseball, we enjoyed a splendid evening together. It had contained more romantic undertones than I had ever considered upon arriving at the baseball field.

I will also admit that on that night I had assumed we would be doing something different. Perhaps something similar to the night we had spent with the Great Mutato and Cher: dancing, low lights, and a certain flirty exchange of looks between the both of us.

Yet, baseball with Mulder had some of those traits, just in different ways. I suppose he always had the power to surprise me when I least expected it.

I hoped that on this occasion there would be a similar outcome.

And upon that thought, I jumped to hear furious knocking at my door. I got up quickly, only to discover something I had not considered in my wildest imagination.

Three pale faces dressed in all black stared back at me through the door-hole, and _none_ of them were Mulder.

I opened the door in complete confusion, and opened my mouth to speak, but was cut off immediately.

"There are some things we need to discuss with you," Frohike spat. The expression on his face looked determined and hard. Or, I should say, harder than usual.

"...Mulder is on his way-" I began slowly, but was cut off once more.

"We know  _everything_ ," said Langley. I struggled to discover what he had just insinuated.

" _Everything_..." whispered Byers, for emphasis on the previous statement.

"Would someone mind explaining to me? I think I'm a little lost here," I said with growing agitation.

"In good time. But for right now you're coming with us," said Frohike.

I do not know how he did it, but Byers had gotten behind me and closed the door. Frohike and Langely glared at me, and motioned for me to begin walking forward. Normally I would have resisted. However, on this particular night I was not sure of each of The Gunmen's mental stability. Upon arrival outside, I found a van parked in front of us. Frohike made a mad-dash to the drivers seat while looking around the perimeter in absolute paranoia. Langley walked ahead of me and opened the door. I assumed the matching black suits indicated their plan of my apparent kidnapping, and I rolled my eyes.

"Get in," Langley commanded. I shot him the death glare, and after tensing, he relaxed his expression and stopped his ruthless dramatics. Then, I climbed into the van with Byers behind me.

"What in the hell is going on?" I demanded, my voice louder with each word. Now it was my turn to express anger. Frohike began to drive as he answered.

"What are you and Mulder doing?" he asked. Byers and Langely looked at me with wide eyes.

"I don't know, he didn't tell-"

"No, no, no. Not tonight. I mean what are you two doing in  _general_?" said Frohike. I was taken off guard, and was silent for a moment.

"I don't believe I follow your question," I replied.

"You and Mulder screwing yet or what?" Langley asked boldly. I saw Frohike cringe at the word.

"...Excuse me?" I replied.

"Are you and Mulder beginning to take things to the next level?" asked Byers more appropriately.

"Why do you  _ask_?" I questioned.

"From what Mulder's been telling us-" Byers began, but was interrupted by Frohike and Langley hushing him.

It then occurred to me what had happened. Mulder had been telling The Gunmen everything. It was sick and adolescent of him to seek the opinions of other individuals to help him in his...romantic pursuits. I felt my cheeks become warm, but I also realized that he had been talking to them about the two of us detail. Therefore, he was thinking of our future just as hard as I had been.

"Mulder told you _what_ exactly?" I asked. I was curious myself as to what he had told them. Perhaps now I could gain more insight into his mind. There was a long silence. I saw Byers and Langley throw a glance at each other. Almost as if he had eyes in the back of his head, Frohike spoke up.

"Go ahead and tell her," he murmured. My ears perked.

"Mulder has been talking to us about your relationship for quite some time now," Byers began.

"Quite some time?" I asked.

"Few years," Langley replied. That was something I had not expected.

"He would never blatantly say what he felt, he would just allude to certain things, although we always knew what he meant without it being said. After all, it's never been a secret. But after your evening with Grossman, it seemed like the dynamic had changed between you and Mulder..." continued Byers.

I nodded slowly. There was a part of me that was debating whether or not to confess, but at this point I was aware that it did not matter. Everyone knew the truth regardless of what I may or may not deny. All three of the Gunmen let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank God. We weren't sure if he was imagining things or if it was fact," Frohike admitted.

"We wanted to be sure, if he was assuming what was going on between the two of you, that you were aware of it as well," Byers said, a smile forming on his mouth.

"So...this was all to be sure that I was on the same page?" I questioned. I hardly felt that being forced into a van was the best way to have gone about this, but I suppose it might make an entertaining story some day.

"Well, we didn't want you crushing the poor bastard," said Langley.

"You're all that he has. We were worried that if he got too excited about this, and he was wrong, that he would never recover," said Byers. I suppose that made perfect sense, and in an odd way, it was almost acceptable. They were more loyal to him than I had suspected.

"So, you're sure you're okay with all of this? We don't think he's going to waste any more time in taking things further," said Frohike. I nodded.

"I've considered just about everything that there is to be considered," I replied. A comfortable silence fell over us, as the mystery of Mulder and I had been brought to the attention of all.

"Scully loves Mulder..." taunted Langley in a sing-song way.

"We always hoped you were holding out for him," whispered Byers, winking. I felt my face redden once more. This felt all too high school for me, when the guy you liked would tell his friends everything about what was going on, and being bombarded by them all when he wasn't around.

It felt so...normal. Almost. That is, disregarding the fact that everyone involved was an adult. But that was of no consequence. I still felt a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

"Don't fight it sister. You're allowed be happy," said Langley. I smiled with my full ability after his statement. And then, I realized that I did not know why we were still driving. Or where we were going in the first place.

"...Where are we  _going_?" I asked, annoyed again.

"Oh, about that. See, when Mulder called you, we had showed up at his door. We insisted on picking you up instead of him so that we could have our talk with you...although he doesn't know the real reason. So, if you could keep the previous conversation to yourself, it would be appreciated," said Byers.

"So, Mulder is aware that I'm with you guys?" I asked.

"Yeah, he knows," said Frohike. I made a mental note to kick Mulder's ass for unknowingly putting me in this position.

"...So  _where are we going_?" I asked once more.

"To participate in a fun group activity, and so Mulder can get a little closer to you," said Byers excitedly.

"We're playing laser tag," said Langley with little or no enthusiasm, thankfully answering my question. Well, that explained the all black outfits.

"It was a secret!" shrieked Byers, as if all were ruined. Langley rolled his eyes.

Laser tag.

Mulder had planned  _laser tag_. If we weren't high school already, we sure as hell were now. And it wasn't in a good way anymore.

* * *

We all got out of the van to see Mulder leaning against his car. He too, was dressed in black. I tried to grasp our surroundings. There was a bleak and decaying run-down building, though large, in the distance. Upon sight of us, Mulder began to walk ahead.

"Have a nice ride?" asked Mulder smiling with doubt, eyebrows raised, and leaning in so that The Gunmen couldn't hear us.

"I should kill you," I replied, smile still intact on my face to hide my anger. I would hate to signify to them that I had not enjoyed their company. But, let's be honest, I had not intended to be with them included tonight. Or. in this location at all.

But I was here anyway, and I would just have to make the best of it.

"Scully..." chuckled Mulder, in a slight reprimand. The Gunmen then acknowledged him.

"Langley let the cat out of the bag," said Frohike.

"Huh?" asked Mulder.

"He told her the _secret_!" yelled Byers. Poor guy, it pained me to see the extent of his disappointment. Mulder seemed to be thinking the same thing.

"Oh...well, we should get going," said Mulder, somewhat disappointed, and almost unaware of how to initiate plans as the leader. We all began walking into the building.

"I don't think Scully's too happy about this," mentioned Langley. I shot him a quick look of approval for him being the only one who understood my general distaste for the plans of this evening. I looked up to see Mulder's eyes get wide.

"I thought you loved laser tag. Last time we played you had such a good time," he said, like a child seeking to provide me with happiness. My heart melted instantly, and I cured myself for having felt my previous negativity.

"I do, I do," I replied, lying through my teeth. "But Mulder, the last time we did something like this we were almost killed. And we got trapped in the game..."

These were the mere negatives I mentioned to try to convey that this was incredibly juvenile and something that I would never do by my own choice.

"We don't...we don't have to do this," he stumbled around with his words, and awkward expression on his face.

"No! No, of course we do. We'll have fun," I lied for his benefit, and he looked into me with disbelief, before he nodded.

 

On any other night I would have been annoyed, but I saw an honest attempt in Mulder to provide me with a good time.

That alone meant the world.

* * *

For the game-play, we had split into two teams. There was Mulder and I, versus The Gunmen (which seemed almost ironic considering we were playing laser tag). For the most part, we were pretty good at defending ourselves against the other three, and it was much more entertaining than I had imagined.

The real issue was Frohike. He was small, and quicker than we had ever imagined. Quite ruthless, to be honest, especially considering that it was a _game_ , but perhaps my lack of a competitive nature forced me to see it as unnecessary. Frohike had a habit of removing himself from the other three to pursue Mulder and I with fury.

This was one of those times.

"Shit, I don't see him," Mulder spat in a whisper.

I had a ridiculous amount of adrenaline rushing through my body. A part of me knew deep down it was stupid to take a game so seriously, but it was an honest good time. I saw a staircase hidden behind a small wall that we had ultimately missed during the rest of the gameplay. It seemed to lead to a cramped space above the rest of the game floor.

If we could position ourselves up there, it would allow us to win without a doubt, as the clock ticked away for our session to be over.

"Mulder..." I whispered loudly. He looked down at me in the dark light, and I motioned toward my discovery. He nodded furiously, as he could tell what I insinuated. We took off quickly, with Mulder leading the way. With his long leg span, and my lack thereof, he was able to reach our destination faster than I could.

I stood at the base of the staircase as he reached the top.

At that moment, I could have sworn I saw Frohike in the distance. I crouched down on impulse, and glanced to Mulder at the top of the staircase to see him staring off as well, eyes on Frohike like a hawk. Once he moved out of my line of sight, and I remained in my position until I saw Mulder motion for me to join him upstairs.

I took off running.

Halfway up the stairs, I tripped, and fell to my knees hard. There was a loud bumping sound that I had produced from the impact, and I struggled to get up, becoming more nervous with each second. There was a possibility that I had not only drawn attention to myself, but our hiding spot as well.

I did not know if Frohike was on my heels at this point, and soon I became aware of a strong resistance that prevented me from moving forward. The gun attached to my vest had gotten caught on the railing. The look on Mulder's face made me think that he had noticed my predicament almost as soon as I had.

"Take it off!" he whispered urgently.

I struggled for a moment, before flinging the vest off and launching myself up the stairs to join Mulder sitting down. I was breathing heavily, as if I had reached an adrenaline climax from some unseen force. Even though my vest was off, at least I had not blown my partner's cover, and we still stood a chance of winning the game.

"Jesus..." I whispered, throwing my head back. My body had barely fit into the tight spot, and I was essentially sitting on him, my legs on his, but across from him. If I were to scoot closer, I could wrap my legs around his waist, and the instant realization formed a warm feeling in the pit of my stomach...

When I eventually looked across at Mulder to make sure he was comfortable, however, he was not making eye contact.

I could not decipher the expression on his face. His eyes were wide, and his lips were pursed. I could see the shape of his jawline with distinct quality despite the darkness, and he was breathing heavily as well, but not for the same reason.

He was...hungry. And, he was glaring at my chest.

On queue, I looked down, and noticed what it was all about. At some point while I was struggling with my vest, my shirt had fallen down. Currently, my v-neck was exposing nearly everything I had to offer, and was pushing my breasts up to significant levels. Briefly, I had a moment of panic.

Should I cover up? This seemed tacky and tasteful. But, I _was_ enjoying the expression on his face far too much to do that. Soon, I relaxed, and felt a fire ignite in my eyes.

"Mulder..." I taunted darkly. I saw him tense, making eye contact immediately.

"Scully I..." he began in apology.

But, he realized I was not scolding him for his actions. Then, he cocked his head to the side and smiled with naughty excitement.

"Scully..." he repeated, but it was different this time. I scooted closer into him, which caused him to take a deep breath.

Mulder's hand reached out to graze my chest. Somehow, I kept calm, but was exploding everywhere on the inside, and I could see that he was as well. He was biting his lip with each movement of his hands. Never had I seen him so focused; my mind raced with every implication of his actions. Then, he gently moved his hand into the inside of one bra pad, and cupped the bare breast with his hand curiously, before taking his hand out again.

It was as though he allowed himself to succumb to the curious, sexual desire, only to cease his action in fear that he had gone too far. Soon, he pulled up my shirt altogether for me, in the way that it had been before the vest had come off.

I found this as a sign of intense respect, and was flabbergasted. He stared into my eyes, and we seemed to silently thank each other.

Then, I glanced down between the small amount of space that remained between us, and found a raging erection that bulged against his pants. My eyes lingered up to his for a moment, and he swallowed hard, shame on his face, and I could see that it was his way of expressing a silent apology.  

Yet, some sort of wonder consumed me, and I traced the outline of his erection slowly, in awe. All these years... I had just recently become accustomed to the idea of him sharing feelings for me. That was great and all...

But... seeing a pure, animal response was the icing on the cake. There was no way to fake that.

It was all so _genuine_.

I stopped and placed my hands at my side, feeling as if I had done enough, and the expression on his face had switched to pure surprise. After the shock on his face wore off, I smile softly, and we simply gazed at one another for a while.

He was stared down at me with a gentle fascination, before he brushed my hair behind my ear. We had just hit a milestone, becoming slightly physical in a way unlike before, exploring each other's body in a new and exciting way, and yet the gratifying moment was this amazing look on his face.

And, of course, that loving, tactful brush against my hair...for some reason, that alone meant the most to me.

Then he leaned in, holding my chin, and tilted my face toward his. The action that we had only done in a chaste, platonic, and confusing fashion in the past, was about to be explored in depth. 

I leaned in as well, to finally taste Fox Mulder's lips in all their glory.


	14. Chapter 14

**(Scully's Point of View)**

Mulder's lips grazed against my own, with gentle affection. Soft and full, they began to dance with mine.

I cannot recall a moment so brilliant, so meaningful, prior to this moment. The rapid, realistic portion of my mind ceased propelling thoughts as it so often does. Every fiber of my being experienced total tranquility.

Such was the power that he had over me... It was as though I felt him become at ease, too; I placed my hands around his head and swept them across his hair. The breathing between us began to slow. Mulder, after some time, though I am not aware of how much, released a slight moan that conveyed a sigh of relief.

I then felt him stop.

I forced myself to open my eyes, not wishing to return to the hectic frenzy that I was sure to create in my head. And there he was, his eyes already piercing mine with an expression only he could give. I, too, let out a sigh of relief. What was this feeling? As we sat there looking into one another, I began to realize what was so profound: nothing had changed. We did not need this to project ourselves into something new. The Fox Mulder who I had shared a kiss with was also the best friend who had started this journey with me. I began to understand my own stupidity on the issue. Why had I wished for things to change? It was clear now that this moment was simply a bonus, an extra cherry on top of what was already perfection. An off-beat perfection, but perfection nevertheless.

Then, I began to smile ever so slightly, and he furrowed his brow in response before smiling in return.

It soon occurred to me that I was not sure what he was pondering. As his smile began to increase, I noticed his eyes began to tear up. A lump in my throat was starting to form. I found my vision becoming foggy and with less focus. This was another first: in this moment, I did not fear expressing my emotion in his presence. Though I was not sure of what he was thinking, I was aware of what he was _feeling_.

We lurched forward and began kissing once more, in a more passionate manner. The tears streaming down our faces continued to fall, and were adding to the beauty of this encounter. There we were, he and I, together as one. He began to kiss my neck, and I grasped on to hug his body as I felt my affections overflowing within me. As his kissing ceased, he too latched onto me.

"I love you," he said, his words mumbled into my shoulder.

"...I know," I managed to choke out.

I had always known.

* * *

**(Mulder's Point of View)**

In such a moment everything had changed so completely.

Our lips together produced an invincible force that could not be seen. This was it. All those times I had longed for her, imagining the taste and the touch, were being illustrated in reality.

I was also shocked to find that I didn't have to proceed with caution; though she had caught my unrestrained arousal prior to this moment (and may I add that I hope she was impressed...) my body's reaction _now_ was somehow different.

It was not sexual, but rather spiritual. I felt myself emit a moan in understanding my feelings, and hoped Scully did not obscure the true meaning of what I had just done. I stopped to steal a glance at her, and found that her eyes were still closed. The pout of her lips eagerly awaiting more, and still affected by me.

_"You've still got it!"_  I considered with proud optimism. My own arrogance, however, was taken away when I saw how beautiful the expression on her face was. She seemed to be at peace, her features natural and exuding an innocence that would make any man weak at the knees. I examined her every feature, which was nothing that I did not do on a daily basis, but this time it was reserved for something much more special. I then saw her eyes flutter open, meeting my gaze and increasing the tenderness of this experience. I could easily assess the wheels beginning to turn in her mind.

At this moment, I felt remorse that I had stopped kissing her. It seemed that the gesture had brought her hectic world to a halt.  _Our_  hectic world.

And it was then that the memories of our time together opened within me like a floodgate. Years began to race through my mind: The first time she swayed into our office, both of us young and ignorant of what lay ahead of us. Our first case together, where I wanted her so desperately to believe what I knew to be the truth. It was my choice to share that with her, and it was as if she chose me too. The time that she was nearly killed by that maniac, and the expression on her face as she buried her head into my chest, sobbing and hurt. Looking back, it was then that I truly realized her strength and aversion to vulnerability. I believe that was when I began to care deeply for her. And then she was taken from me... only to return once again.

The memories only continued and increased in strength: I recall my rise from the ashes of the desert, and the determination she used to being me back to her and the life we had slowly begun to form together. I remember the intensity she brought as she sat with Modell and I during the game of Russian Roulette. I also recall picking up on her personal connection with the Peacock family, and began to understand her natural, motherly desire to create life.

I found this to be shaken when she was diagnosed with cancer. I recollect the shock I felt when she confided in me about her condition, and the way she felt, limp and fragile in my arms in a hospital robe much too large for her weakening body. My chest burns as I ponder the times I wept at her bedside, and prayed to the highest being who was able and willing to hear my sobs. I could no longer live without her.

Many lives had been lost in the course of our time together. I can easily paint a picture in my mind of the deaths of Melissa, Scully's father, my own father, and death of the hope that I might find Samantha, as well as countless others. Hell, Scully and I nearly lost our lives on numerous occasions. But as I pondered the events from the past to the present, I cannot help but notice that at some point two lives had merged together. We shared more memories than we had on our own...

_We had built a life together._

I quickly snapped to and realized that I was crying like some raving idiot, and assumed from the water beginning to swell in her eyes that I was producing the same reaction for her. I then began to kiss her violently, releasing waves of rage, embarrassment, sadness, and joy all at once. I momentarily pondered how stupid this had become, that I had perhaps shaken the stability that she so desperately tried to maintain. However, I felt the purge of our emotions and understood that it would cleanse the demons that were haunting us.

I worked my way down from her mouth to her neck, caressing and kissing every inch of her that I could take. I felt her hold on to me, her head thrown back in ecstasy of the event. I nestled my face into her once I had finished, allowing a moment for us to comprehend what had occurred and to catch our breath.

"I love you," I mumbled, out of air. It was unnecessary to state, but it still felt right despite that knowledge. My stomach did not do flips as I had assumed, nor did I brace for rejection. The words simply fell out of my mouth and rang with truth.

"...I know," she cooed, ever so softly.

In the heat of the moment, I feared I may begin to cry again.  _God_ , I've become a total wreck.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**_(Scully's Point of View)_ **

It seemed to me that the moments in which we long to admit defeat, and taste the sweet fruits of curiosity, somehow conclude in ways that we could never imagine. In some way, we have skewed reality with the terrible habit of estimation, may it be too little or too much.

With this in mind, I see that I have triumphed greatly. I gained more from this experience than I had bargained for, which is a rare occurrence. What happened between Mulder and I just a few nights ago was more than just the romance which I had craved with greed. It was something much greater...an intimate and powerful event without words to ruin what the actions had expressed.

Yet what fills me with the most joy is that I do not feel a change between us.

I recall my experiences in the past, with Daniel and Ethan; once we had overcome the physical and emotional barrier, it was as though we lost minute parts of ourselves within the other. In attempt to prolong the newfound bliss that was associated with passion, we succumb to the other person in order to make them happier, and tend to forget who we had been in the process. Perhaps I did this with them because I was much younger at the time, and lacked the experience of staying true to my nature. Yet I would like to believe it is because Mulder and I truly  _are_ special.

After the events of what had occurred between us, we calmed our emotions and returned to The Lone Gunmen, as normal as ever. There was a slight twinkle in Mulder's eye, and I assume I had this as well, though this was not new to our company or to ourselves. Once the game had concluded, we said our goodbyes, and made our way to Mulder's car. He unlocked the door and I slipped inside. It was all quite effortless. He, too, entered the car, and without flirty glances or gentle touches as one would expect after years of suppressing emotion. I was grateful for this, as I have never been the affectionate type, though I knew we would converse about our situation soon.

As we pulled out onto the road, I felt him glance over at me, and I met his gaze with confidence as a way to initiate.

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?" he demanded, starting off teasing and light. I admired this, as he wished to ease his way into a serious conversation.

"After all this time Mulder, I have to be honest with you: I don't know," I admitted with a laugh, though shaking my head.

"Let's start off easy. How did you expect to feel?" he asked, eyes on the road, though I knew he was avoiding eye contact because he did not want to pressure me.

"I guess I expected it to be this grand romantic moment, and we would become lovers or something ridiculous like that. But, I have to admit, I don't feel any different at all," I explained. He then made eye contact immediately.

"... _I_  thought it was pretty romantic, Scully. You don't feel any different at all, not even a little bit?" he said, feeling slightly rejected.

"No, no, of course there is a difference. As I sit here and converse with you, though, it's just like it always was. For a long time I think I wanted things to change between us, but now I see that things are already perfect. They always have been," I explained.

"So are we just going to act like it never happened...?" he prodded gently, confusion on his face.

"God no! I've been wishing for this to happen for a long time, you know that. All I am saying is, I am thrilled to know that the friendship element hasn't changed despite the fact that we have crossed into another territory. I couldn't converse with you in the way I would converse with a lover, or a boyfriend, or any other ridiculous title that people choose to give themselves. Whatever this has become... I think it is reserved only for us," I rambled, though I felt him ease.

"Oh...I thought that was understood?" he said simply, and looked over at me as though I had missed something. I laughed lightly.

"I guess I was a little late in grasping all of this Mulder. Apparently you've had it all figured out, please enlighten me with your theories," I said with sarcasm, though not joking. He laughed, and then his face turned serious yet again.

"You overthink too much about the basics, and I don't. Over time I just thought it was an assumed thing between us... to be honest the thing that stresses me out the most is the sex...you know, if you wanted," he said.

"Mulder!" I shouted with a laugh, though somewhat offended.

"Well, Scully it is a part of it! And I'm just being honest," he admitted, and I realized I had never seen him express such masculinity except when I occasionally stumbled upon those videos in our office.

"So all of this is just to get into my pants? Why didn't I realize before," I said dryly. He turned to me, eyes wide.

"...I apologize for acting like a pig. I have all these thoughts racing in my mind right now, it's causing me to say stupid things. I would never try to disrespect you...but hey, you aren't one for the romance either," he hinted and he cut his eyes at me, though I did not know what he was referring to.

"Huh?" I said, dumfounded and not attempting to say anything intelligent.

"Scully, I told you I loved you back there," he said gently.

"Yes?" I agreed.

'Well, you didn't exactly reply with the typical response..." he said with a shrug, staring out at the road ahead. I realized I had hurt his feelings in that moment, though completely unaware.

"I am...sorry, Mulder. I love you too, but you know that..." I said.

"Yeah but it still would have been nice to hear," he continued, but I could feel him easing up.

"I love you Mulder, I really do. There's not much else that I can be sure of, but I know that for a fact," I repeated again, in the hope that perhaps I could make him feel what it was that has been hidden for so long. The words felt odd when they escaped my lips for a second time, new and exciting. He turned to me then, eyes soft, and stroked my cheek with a smile on his face. It did not take any getting used to, as this was something that he had done on numerous occasions, yet I was still thrilled that it was so natural.

"When did you know?" he prodded.

"I don't know, Mulder. It has taken me so long to admit to myself that you did too. I think any time after I shot you, though I really knew when you got involved with that Bambi girl...or maybe it was Detective White... When did you know?" I asked, realizing I did not know for sure, and he laughed.

"I love when you get jealous. For a long time that was the only proof I had that maybe you felt something too. But that's what I was thinking about when we were kissing, that's why I got so emotional. All these memories just came into my mind. I knew I loved you when you were attacked by Pfaster...but once you told me you had cancer, well, there was no going back," he explained, deep in thought. There was a silence between us for a moment.

"What happens now?" I questioned, feeling as though I were a child, and my fate at his feet.

"I don't know, Scully. I mean, you said it yourself, whatever is between us is special, and it most definitely isn't normal. You know as well as I do that we can't just parade around as a couple, but we can't just go back to the way things were," he said, and I knew a dilemma was facing us head on.

"This is so unlike me...but honestly, I think we should just do whatever it is we want...whatever it is we feel is right. Things are a little blurry now, but eventually we'll find our way. We always have," I opened up, not sure of what he would think.

"So should I get rid of the ring that's in my pocket...?" He suggested, and my eyes expanded with my rapid increase in heart rate. He laughed heartily. "I'm just kidding Scully, unless you suggest  _otherwise_  in the future," he explained lightly. I punched him in the arm, and his laughing continued. We then pulled into my apartment, and I glanced at him under my eyelashes.

"...Did you want to come in?" I questioned, though nervous if he were to accept the offer.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," he admitted with a nervous chuckle, and instinctively glanced down at my chest before stopping himself. I nodded in agreement.

"Let's take it slow...I think that's a plan?" I suggested.

"Yeah, I have to agree," he replied. I nodded, before opening the door.

"Well, this was an interesting night to say the least. Goodnight, Mulder," I said, stepping out of the car.

"One of the best, Scully. Goodnight," he responded with a smile.

I got out and entered the apartment, and turned to see that he was waiting for me to get in safely. I shook my head as I went inside, closing the door behind me gently. Yet as I walked to my own door, I heard a knock at the entrance. I returned quickly, thrilled that he had chased after me.

We began to kiss in the doorway yet again.

After all, we had a few years to make up for.


	16. Chapter 16

Warmth radiated from within my body as I laid, as still as possible, on the bed. A dark and gloomy haze seemed to twirl about outside the window, but despite the melancholy atmosphere, the room could not fail to be a safe haven for the happiness that bloomed inside me.

I glanced at the clock, 6:43AM, and let out a muted sigh. Even this early in the morning, on a Saturday at that, could not place my mind at rest. As the new usual, I allowed times like these for myself to replay the events of my life. I suppose it would be unhealthy to dwell on such optimism for extended periods of time, but even I have to permit such behavior. After all, who would know?

The events of the past few months had been  _absolutely splendid_. Following the revelations of the night we kissed (how juvenile does that sound? My God), things had continued in a fairly normal state. We began to spend more time together, spent the night watching television and cooking, and soon began to make love until the wee hours of the morning, and somehow retained the blissful adoration that often seems to fade once new love wears away...

I then felt him stir next to me. Soon after I cringed not only at the possibility that I had accidentally jarred him awake, but that he may interrupt my thought process. A few moments passed as he tossed with restless frenzy, and nuzzled himself into my back, arm in front of me in a protective embrace. From here I could feel him take deep breaths, before he found rest once more somewhere in his subconscious. A rosy blush painted my face, and I smiled to myself.

_Never_  would I grow bored with this, ever.

There were still unanswered questions that we had ignored to consider thoroughly. Although, I will state that the question of a title between us was finally put to rest after the realization that we truly did not desire a label. _"If it ain't broke, don't fix it,"_  (Mulder's banal jargon, not mine. I must admit, however, that it stands to be true). I have found that I admire his simplicity, which is something I had never noticed before.

_Would we move in together?_  We have switched between my residence and his on a regular basis, but slowly some of Mulder's items have began to find new places in my closet. I do not mind in the slightest, and I can almost swear I spy a secret thrill on his face when he introduces a new personal possession. But if we did move in together, my assumption is that he would move in with me. Although I love the masculine, bachelor-like apartment of his, he and I both know that it is  _barely_  a place to call home.

When Mulder enters my apartment, it is as though his demeanor changes fully, and I think I may be guilty of the same affliction. It is some sort of domestic syndrome, and it often reminds me of when Melissa and I would force Charlie into playing house with us as children.  _Mulder a husband, and I a wife?_ I will not tell a lie, the situation is one that I ponder with great imaginative qualities, and more often than I would like to admit. Sometimes I catch Mulder glance at me when we cook together, a faint smile curled on his lips, as I consider these thoughts, and I am quite certain he is aware.

_With marriage comes children.._. I can no longer produce life, which is a bitter reality that I am forced to accept. There are not times where I allow myself to hope, for I know that the limit of my sanity does not extend that far. Mulder knows better than to bring up the subject, but on occasion I wonder if it is fair to prevent him from being the great father he was destined to become. Gentle, kind, and protective, as well as a killer sense of humor, were all traits that a child would benefit from in a daddy. Then I consider Mulder's guilt for my condition, and remember that he too feels responsible. Perhaps fate did not allow the darkness we chased to be an environment to raise a child. Regardless of whatever it may be, the fact remains: I  _am_  barren, and life is  _not_ fair.

Therefore, I must focus on other-

"Scully, your thoughts are keeping me awake," he mumbled humorously. Rich and resonating with drowsy innocence, his breath tickles the back of my neck, and I turn my head slightly to see him better. A long, gentle kiss was soon planted against my cheek, and I chuckled.

"Sorry," I whispered apologetically, and nestled closer against him.

"It's alright; in fact, I was just thinking of what we could do to enjoy this gloomy morning in bed..." he trailed on suggestively, and whispered in my ear, before he wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace, and I fought back playfully. After a moment of lightness between us, he placed me on his chest, and cradled my head against him.

"When are you going to tell me what it is that you've been thinking about?" he asked, and began to take a more serious tone.

"When you get rid of those videos in the office," I replied back casually. He laughed for a moment, but I knew it was not enough to sidetrack his mind.

"Scully, I'm serious. After all this time, you really can't think I wouldn't know when something is on your mind," he warned softly.

"I don't know Mulder. I know you think about things as much as I do," I sighed.

"Yes, I do. But I asked you first," he urged, and although I could not see it, I knew a smile was on his face.

"Do we move in together? Are we marriage material? And I can't give you children...that's just to name a few," I explained honestly. I felt him take a deep breath.

"Yes, the first two are ones that cross my mind often. But, Scully..." he cooed gently, and he began to rub circles on my back with his finger, as he took a moment to collect his thoughts. "Children are not a priority. You are all that I need...I don't want to share you anyway," he explained further. I laughed without humor.

"Mulder, you deserve to be a father," I said bleakly.

"And you deserve to be a mother," he said, voice dark and harsh.

"Yes...all I am saying is that I feel broken in some way. The idea has always pestered me, but I was without a... partner. Now that you and I...well, the idea crosses my mind more than it used to," I murmured.

"You're perfect, not broken. And even if you were, I'd put you back together again," he said sternly. The conversation had become too serious too quickly, for issues that were not yet of consequence, and I silently thanked him for letting off the subject.

"You said the first two were ideas that crossed your mind often?" I asked in a more optimistic tone, and rose my head to look into his eyes. The grin on his face was infectious.

"I never brought it up because I knew that you would when you were ready. You're ready now, aren't you?" he asked.

"Ready for which part?" I questioned with hesitation, and he laughed.

"I think you're ready to move in together, but you're only considering the marriage part, and I have to admit I feel the same way. Eh?" he continued with a smile. I only looked up at him for a brief moment. "I know I'm right," he added, with an even larger grin.

"You would move in with  _me_...not the other way around," I stated, though it was more of a question.

"Exactly, which is also why I never brought it up. It makes me seem like a bum, and it makes me seem incompetent," he said with a hint of shame.

"Incompetent?" I asked in confusion.

"Doesn't the girl move in with the guy?" he suggested.

"I don't know, but even if it were the case, we aren't ones that follow regular social conventions," I expressed.

"My house just doesn't feel like a home Scully, even if you were there to make it into one. I don't know, I've just always been more comfortable here, and I know you're particular about your habits. If I moved in, you wouldn't have to change a thing," he explained, and then I laughed lightly.

"So, you're moving in?" I speculated.

"Is that a formal invitation?" he questioned back.

"Yes, yes I suppose it is," I admitted with warmth.

"Alright then; good thing too, half of my stuff is already here," he said with optimism. "What about the marriage?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"I've never seriously thought of myself as a  _wife_...although I have imagined it, but when two people love each other they're expected to be married," I said.

"Is the good little Catholic girl inside you afraid to live in sin?" he taunted, and I playfully kneed him in the stomach.

"Shut up, Mulder. You never think about it?" I continued.

"I think about it constantly, and the way I see it Scully, you're _more_  than a wife to me already. I have no objections to marriage, I just don't feel that it's necessary. If you do though, I would happily marry you without a doubt," he admitted openly, and I saw him glance down cautiously to read my response.

"Dana  _Mulder_..." I said out loud and somewhat disgusted.

"Ew," he grimaced.

"One day at a time, I suppose," I said with an air of conclusion in my voice. After all, everything he had said were my exact thoughts.

"I love you, you love me, we're a happy family," he sang the Barney theme, and the simplicity of the moment was enough to settle my mind and heart.

"After you move in, let's not complicate things," I suggested.

"I couldn't agree with you more. That's why you're the brains of this relationship, Scully," he joked.

We had all the time in the world to worry over specifics. For now, however, the new experiences were far too great to cloud our good judgment with stress over the future.

After all, you can't fight the future.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Know that by now, this would be around the beginning of season 8, although major events like Mulder's disappearance obviously have not occurred.**

**(EPILOGUE)**

I sat on a rigid park bench, eating the salad in my lap. I ran out of the office as fast as my legs would carry me. The day was too beautiful to eat lunch inside as I normally would. Thank _God_  it was Friday.

A warm breeze rippled through my hair, swaying the trees beyond me. The smell of summer was prominent in a bold and comforting manner. Grass beneath my shoes, sun glowing above me.

Despite all of this, I did not take notice.

I was searching the park for something I was not sure of.

Perhaps-

"...and you aren't even listening to what I'm saying, are you?" said Mulder, who squirmed beside me with uncomfortable irritation.

"No..." I replied in blatant honesty, without eye contact, and continued to look around us. Next to me, I felt him ease a bit as he realized through my body language that I truly was distracted, and had not ignored him simply because I was bored.

"Are you all right?" he nudged with more affection, and I then turned to him.

"Yes...I was just feeling...nostalgic, I guess. Just a year and a half ago I sat right here, with only you on my mind no less, if you can believe it," I explained, and he laughed at my confession as he chomped away on his salad. Somewhere down the line, my eating habits had contaminated into his since we had moved in together all those months ago.

"Oh, I remember that day. You ate lunch without me and hurt my little feelings," he said after a moment of consideration, and I chuckled lightly at the response.

"What were you saying earlier, when I wasn't paying you enough attention?" I asked with more warmth.

"About the curtains in the living room. I know by the way you've been glaring at them that they're due for a change, but you haven't said anything about them yet because you aren't sure what you want to do with them," he had guessed, and was absolutely right.

"They never bothered me before, but I suppose when you moved in they just began to look different to me. Everything else in the room has changed since you've been with me,  _except_  those curtains," I said, and began to feel nostalgia press my mind yet again.

"Never occurred to me that it was  _that_  big of a deal...I just suggested that we go after work tonight and look for some alternatives," he replied, eyes wide, and without the capacity to truly understand my current mood.

"Yeah, that's fine..." I replied, eyes somewhere far beyond where we were at, and I saw him freeze in my peripheral vision.

"Scully, I'm really lost right now and I can't tell if you're sensitive or not at the current moment," he replied with obvious fear, and I looked back at him with a gentle smile. The blatant honesty he often used when he felt in the dark never failed to fill me with happiness when it concerned our wellbeing.

"Mulder, there's this part of me that absolutely hates those curtains because they're outdated, but there's an even bigger part of me that feels I cannot get rid of them. As if I was... losing a part of my identity, if I let them go. There have been so many changes..." I replied, without the understanding of my own thought process.

"Then we have to keep them, simple as that. If something bothers you like that, there can only be one solution. In time you'll probably let them go, but for now you need them," he explained, and I felt a gentle hand caress my back in little circles.

After smiling at one another, we continued to look throughout the park, and focused on the children who played here and there. My mind swirled with waves of emotion, and I pondered the miracle of life. Mulder and I had been living together for ten months now, and the feeling that something may or may not be missing continues to throb at my conscience. It was my age, it  _had_ to be...a woman in her mid-thirties with a wonderful man, the cohabitation, a career and ample funds in the bank. There was only  _one_  thing that was not in the picture yet...

"Do you think we can do this?" I asked blatantly, and looked over to see Mulder watching the children as I had done previously.

"There isn't a doubt in my mind, Scully. Sometimes you think we may have rushed things, but you need to remember that even though it took a while to admit it, you and I have been in a loving, caring relationship for eight years now. Stop doing this to yourself, you know you deserve this happiness," he urged.

" _We_  deserve this happiness..." I stated out loud, and he nodded.

"Before we moved in together, I lied to you," he admitted, and I frowned.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I told you that I didn't want to share you. But, that was a lie. I'd always imagined us with a child, but I never allowed myself to actually hope for the idea. Let's be honest Scully, I'm older than you and it's time for me to settle down. I'm  _old_ ," he explained, and laughed slightly.

Tears welled in my eyes, and Mulder smiled at me brilliantly.

"You know, I like your mood swings. It lets me see a side of you that you usually hide," he added playfully, and I shook my head in disapproval.

"There's so much more to it, Mulder. Sometimes I feel like I'm losing my mind," I admitted, and he kissed my forehead.

"At least your morning sickness has stopped...thank God," he suggested as a bonus with a disgusted look on his face, and I did not have the heart to tell him that it had never truly stopped, but had just become manageable. Despite his finicky nature, he had always been a dedicated partner at my side whenever the waves of nausea came, although it annoyed me at first.

"The worst of everything hasn't even happened yet, don't forget it for a minute. The physical signs have yet to show obviously, and I know how shallow you are when it comes to fat girls," I joked, and he paused for a minute before he decided to laugh with me.

"You look more beautiful every day. Scully, we're building a life together, and that's the most attractive quality I can imagine," he said, and I rolled my eyes.

"There's more than that, Mulder. My breasts are going to swell, my nipples are going to be much larger and purple, there may be linea nigra that forms on my abdomen, and have you any idea what Chadwick's sign is?" I prompted, and he shook his head. "Oh Mulder, producing life is not the beautiful thing that mothers like to pretend that it is, although there are beautiful benefits."

"If you weren't a doctor, you might just enjoy this a little more," he suggested, and I nodded.

"And then, of course, is the unanswered question considering that I was barren, and now, for some reason not identified, I became pregnant," I added, no longer in the moment but simply listing the reasons that all of this was scary and unusual to the core. Pregnancy itself, even when natural, seems alien.

"Miracles happen, do they or do they not?" he asked, and I paused for a moment.

"Yes," I simply answered.

"Then let's just savor the miracle," he concluded, and I could not help but agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it is all over, I promise. Cheesy, maybe, but I wanted to tie in the eighth season and I also wanted to give a sure way to end everything. Usually I hate happy endings, but in the real series they never really got to have that, so I decided to allude to one. 
> 
> Also, I wrote a majority of this story when I was seventeen, and the last chapters when I was eighteen, so it is rather uncharacteristically optimistic and happy compared to my...um, slightly darker and more realistic preferences of writing today. I guess this expresses my change in taste and style, which evolves over time, so perhaps I should not blow it off so readily.
> 
> Thanks for taking the time to read!


End file.
